


South Park University

by plutostar



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Background and Cameo Characters, Developing Relationship, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Mystery, Omega Verse, POV Multiple, Pack Bonding, Scenting, Supernatural Elements, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-02-14 01:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12996435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutostar/pseuds/plutostar
Summary: In a time where the world is split between alphas, betas, and omegas South Park University opens its doors to everyone. Many from various backgrounds flood to the gates of the institute of higher learning in some obscure humble small mountain town for an opportunity. Secrets as old as the town itself and the glaring differences amongst the student population lead to turmoil, chaos, and embarrassing carefree moments.  As the late Chef once said, “there’s a time and place for everything children and that’s college.”





	1. Ch-Ch-Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Turn and face the strange-Butterfly Boucher

“Your dedication to the Eleven Kingdom is strongly appreciated.” Kyle clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing in front of his trusted knight and uh…pirate? Ike was donned in a red bandana, a vest, and distressed denim cut-offs. “But to ensure our future success we need more security measures. It is why I’ve tasked you both with finding materials for our base.” 

“What kind of materials?” Stan twisted the grey terry sweatband around his wrist. The California sun blazed in the sky, pressing heat down on the three of them. 

“Um,” He bit his lip thinking. “Anything soft and comfortable but still sturdy.” 

“No problem,” Stan assured him with a salute. 

Kyle clapped once, letting them know it was time to leave. They all entered the Broslowski’s San Francisco home dodging all of the summer provisions Sheila carefully staged to entertain the Marshes. The boys divided and conquered the two-story building for everything soft and durable to build the fort in the backyard. 

Kyle squinted at the fort as he directed the two boys around the Elven territory as they stacked chairs, boxes, and cushions. 

“There,” he pointed irritably at a spot for Stan to drape a comforter over that he couldn’t quite find a place for that felt right.

Stan obeyed. “Like this?”

“No, a little to the left…” he hesitated. “No, that’s not right. Move it over there.” 

“Phew!” Stan wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead and he stared admirably at their finally finished downy creation. He sniffed and rubbed his nose in agitation. “Nothing is getting through that dude. Well, I guess we should get out your way now so you can have your royal privacy. I’ll go guard the-” 

“No, it’s okay.” Kyle interrupted. “You can stay… if you want.” The space behind Kyle’s belly button suddenly tingled with unreasonable nervous anticipation. As if Stan would decline playing with him. 

“Ok-oh.” Stan suddenly froze, standing stiffly. Kyle began to enter the fort, only to look back to find his friend in the same awkward position and his face flushed with restraint. 

“Are you okay, dude?” Kyle found himself asking. “You’re acting weird.” 

“Yeah. Sorry, it’s nothing.” Stan shrugged it off. Kyle tried to ignore it, not sure why Stan was acting this way. Every time Kyle got close to him today he’d freeze or quickly move away. And he could barely keep eye contact. It was really weird.

They tumbled into the fort and settled in the comfortable space cracking jokes the way they always cracked jokes. But the atmosphere felt strained. Kyle’s nerves were humming and it was hotter than normal under the blazing summer day.

“I got them!” Ike came rushing out the sliding glass door with a few cushions that he covertly swiped from the living room. Kyle’s stomach muscles tensed, skin damp under the heavy gaze of his best friend. And for some reason, he really didn’t want Ike anywhere near the fort. At least not right now. The thought of being alone with Stan made a warm tickly glow spread from his stomach into his arms and legs. 

“Hey Ike, I need to talk to the council about pressing matters,” Kyle said while maintaining eye contact with Stan. Waves of what felt like raw energy rushed through him and he caught the barest flinch on Stan’s confused face. 

“Wait!” Ike protested as he threw the cushions down. “That’s not fair, asshole!”

“Go play with your own friends.” Kyle shot back distractedly, too focused on the increased pounding of his heart. Stan started to get closer and he could see the deep blue of his eyes. His hands and neck tingled. 

“I’m telling mom!” Ike threatened but the words felt ten miles away. 

Kyle’s pulse thumped loudly in his ears and his hands were unable to stay still. He dug his shaking fingers into the cotton cloth behind him. 

Everything blurred. Suddenly, the fort looked like a smeared painting of various shades as it closed in around them and it was absolutely suffocating. Stan was above him and his eyes looked like they wanted to devour him. A foreign part of him that was pushing to get to the surface revelled underneath the hungry stare. 

“What the hell Stan?” 

“Kyle. This smell. Why-” Stan’s entire body was shaking and his voice sounded so broken.

“Smell?” Kyle raised his eyebrows, fighting the dizzy feeling flowing through his head. It was so hot.

“Yeah, I can smell you.” Stan furrowed his brow, gripping the sheet beneath them tight. “It’s really distracting.” 

“Oh, come on. Really?” Kyle groused, sniffing the part of his clothes near his pit. He didn’t smell anything offensive but it was a blistering makeshift sauna underneath the fort. 

Kyle held himself absolutely still as his friend suddenly pushed his face into his neck still mumbling about a fucking smell. 

“KYLE!” Sheila Broflovski’s voice abruptly filled the backyard and set off every nerve cell in the two boys’ bodies. Covers were removed and another outrageous sound at the same frequency followed Sheila’s initial outburst. Stan was still on top of him with his nose glued to his throat. 

“Stanley!” Stan’s mother gasped behind them in surprise at their position within their fallen fort. 

“Get away from my son you animal!” Manicured claws dug into the sweaty fabric that clung to the back of his wide-eyed best friend as his mother shoved him away. Sharon Marsh quickly enveloped Stan into a hug. Stan fell into the embrace, glancing around dazed and worried. 

“Did that monster hurt you Bubbie?” Sheila cooed, raking inspecting protective hands over him.

“Is the name calling really necessary?” Sharon asked exasperated, rubbing a comforting hand through Stan’s hair.

“They are when a no good knothead is trying to mark my son!” Sheila growled back.

“For heaven’s sake. They are children Sheila. Scared and confused-”

“Well, what I am supposed to think when your son is being raised by a heathen!” Sheila sniffed. “You said so yourself.”

And that was it. Sharon seemed to hold her tongue but she quickly jerked her son’s arm towards the kitchen. “Stanley, grab your things and get in the car. I think it’s best we get going.” 

“But they just got here!” Kyle protested behind his mother, who held him tightly there with shaking fists.

Sheila turned and leaned over to lovingly mussed the curly mane on her son. “You’re confused, Kyle. Your body is changing but it’s okay I’ve got you now.” She spoke very slowly and enunciated every word as she watched with narrowed eyes as the Marshes disappeared into the house.

* * *

“Kyle!” Ike playfully hit his shoulder and it roughly pulled him from the dream world. The car had stopped and Kyle groggily glanced at the iron gates and overgrown bushes behind them. He looked at the screen of his cell phone. A message from Stan was sent two hours ago indicating that he was excited to see him again. In person. Kyle still couldn’t believe they were going to the same school. It was completely surreal and not really planned at all. His mother sure didn’t know anything about it. 

Kyle felt his mother looking at him with concern. “We can always go back now. You don’t even know anyone out here.” 

Kyle stepped outside the car and inhaled deeply. He doubted his mother and Sharon Marsh even talked anymore. That didn’t stop Stan and Kyle though. They knew each other since they both waddled in diapers and as weird as that day building a fort in San Francisco was for them it didn’t put a serious dent in their friendship. 

“That’s what you think,” Kyle said, and then snapped his mouth shut. He casually walked away from the car and onto the sidewalk before his mother could ask what he meant by that.


	2. Welcome to The Jungle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watch it bring you to your knees-Slash

Everything in South Park was bland and grey. The outdated and tired strip of shops. The water in the lake at the corner of town. Even the sunlight had a gloomy quality to it. The University was accessible by a small two-lane road which winds up from town into the hills above. 

 

Buildings of brick and stone sat on the slushy peaks of the lowest mountains. Cobblestone paths snaked through the entire campus cornering off snowy patches of grass. The convocation, Kyle and his family were attending, was held in the Great Hall at the center of campus attached to the student union. 

 

An overwhelming scent smacked Kyle in the face and the world spun. A handful of football players passed by them on the paved path, talking too loudly, playfully pushing each other. All Alphas. There was no mistaking an Alpha. The raw, primal energy that radiated off them was unmistakable.

 

“…really I don’t see why you didn’t choose the one in California. You’d still be close to us.” Kyle caught the end of his mother’s unending tangent about how South Park was a horrendous idea. 

 

Kyle had actually rapidly researched a whole bunch of schools that admitted Omegas and even toured a few. The school his mother mentioned turned out to have a strict disciplinary code and had been too constricting for words. That atmosphere with his mother’s already overbearing tendencies in such a close proximity would have left him miserable. 

 

His green eyes quickly scanned for kind dark blue ones and the familiar mop of black strands to no avail. Stanley Marsh was not present in the huddle of muscle moving around the three Broflovskis. One of them kicked the door of the building open and it banged loudly on the interior wall. They stumbled their way into the hall, laughing. 

 

A table was set to the side of the doors with a large banner to draw in the clueless first years to the large plastic bags full of information stacked on the table. A range of letters separated the table into four sections to accommodate the large line. There was a person for each range of letters and Kyle walked up to the sign with ‘A-D’ typed in a green print hanging off the table.

 

A young woman was stationed there with long black hair pulled back with a dark green headband and brown eyes sharp with intelligence. When Kyle got closer, she looked up and smiled. 

 

“Last name please.”

 

“Broflovski.”

 

The girl brushed a dark strand of hair out of her eyes as they scanned the paper for his name. “Kyle?” He nodded his affirmative. 

 

“Here ya go. In the bag, you will find a campus map, schedule of events for Welcome week, and a guide with our campus policies. One quick thing though. Your dorm isn’t ready and you won’t be able to move in until Sunday.”

 

“What?! We came out here in the middle of nowhere just for you to tell us this.” His mother quickly interjected. “What kind of backward establishment are you running?!” 

 

“I understand your concern ma’am and we apologize for the inconvenience.” The girl calmly responded. “The safety of our students is our utmost priority and his dorm needs a few more adjustments to ensure that.” 

 

“Where the hell is he supposed to go then?”

 

“We have arranged for students who need lodging to stay at the Lofts in our Sodosopa Shopping center close to downtown. All of the information can be found in the packet.”

 

“Thanks.” Kyle offered before his mother attacked the girl with more questions.

 

“The nerve of this school. Already treating you like outcasts.” Sheila huffed as they moved away from the tables. “Well, I guess we should go get our seats-” 

 

“I’m hungry.” Ike suddenly groaned, sending a small knowing smile Kyle’s way which he was eternally grateful for. He desperately needed a break from the bickering. 

 

“Oh, Ike dear. Can’t you wait? We don’t want to leave your brother alone in this godforsaken town.” 

 

“I’ll be okay, Ma,” Kyle assured, watching as his brother doubled over and clutched his stomach dramatically. “We can meet up afterwards.” 

 

“If you insist bubbie.” She sighed, digging in her purse for her keys. “Call me if you need anything. And don’t take that collar off!” 

 

Kyle did the exact opposite when his mother was out of sight. He unlatched the dark metal collar and pushed the offending thing into the plastic bag of college instructions. 

 

Goosebumps popped over Kyle’s skin as he followed the crowd into the bright white and wooden interior of the hall. He now realized why some students were in cardigans or jackets despite the hot air of the mid-august day. 

 

The hall was stacked with cushioned chairs divided into three parts by two wooden staircases that led all the way to the stage. A huge electronic screen blared white light onto the stage and the first few rows of seats with floating green letters that welcomed the class of 2019. 

 

Sitting on benches behind the lectern on the stage were half a dozen adults. Most of them either looked judgmental, sour or extremely bored. Hanging on the walls between the windows were long glossy green and white banners, each with a graduating class’ year in some unique design. 

 

Another volunteer stood near the entrance and explained. “We sit according to caste. Alphas on the left, Betas in the middle, and Omegas to the right.”

 

Kyle settled into a seat on the right. The section designated to Omegas was practically empty compared to the other two groups. There were far more Alphas and Betas than Omegas. 

 

A girl sat across from him. She was wispy and thin with delicate features and light dusty brown hair that fell in loose curls around her tiny shoulders. She looked almost ethereal like she could float away at any moment. Her eyes were riveted on the pages of the book she held in the crook of her thighs. Kyle was so focused on her he didn’t realize that she noticed him and was now staring back at him. It was almost as if she looked right through him, taking everything in and turning him inside out in the process. 

 

Embarrassed, Kyle looked away, pretending to be preoccupied with the people around him. His eyes quickly flitted towards the other sections of the seating on the other side of him. There was a guy in the Beta section on his left who took up way more space than he needed, that was actually asleep. Every now and again his head would nod and jerk up. Still no Stan in sight. 

 

He could still feel her heavy gaze on him and had to look back. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Kyle could smell her. She was Omega but had the earthy neutral undertones of a Beta. But Omega nonetheless. Omegas were different than Alphas. Warm and gentle waves rolled off them. An Omega was the yin to an Alpha’s yang, each complementing the other. The Omega gave softness and compassion while an Alpha had strength and dominance. At least that’s the way society painted the two groups. Kyle thought it was all a load of shit. 

 

Then she smiled, a slight far-off smile that sort of unnerved him. “Rebecca.” She mumbled.

 

Before he could respond a woman with frizzy gold curls stepped to the lectern and tilted the microphone toward her. “Good Morning!” 

 

Everyone echoed her halfheartedly and she shook her frizzy mane in disapproval. 

 

“Oh, you can do better than that. Good Morning!” She repeated, cupping her ear in enthusiasm. The second wave was with a little more emphasis that seemed to please her. 

 

“Thank you.” Her face lit up and she bent the mic on the podium closer to her. “Welcome! I am Chancellor Victoria and it is a great pleasure to welcome you to South Park University. We are right now at the heart of this spectacular university that is your new home.” 

 

The double doors closed shut with a sound that reverberated off the walls. A number of individuals dressed in pristine green polos and khaki shorts quietly filed into the seats in the back. 

And that’s when Kyle saw him. Stan was following behind the girl that checked him in with two boxes underneath his arm. Sunglasses hid his eyes. The brunette in front of him looked confident and completely in control as she surveyed the room for any mishaps before falling back into her seat with a sigh.

 

“Oh wow. Look at all of you. I think this is the biggest group we’ve ever had. We’re so excited that all of you are here. Get ready and take a deep breath. This is really happening. It’s the start of your very first academic year and we are honored to greet you. Now as you embark on this journey I want to have you think about what you want the class of 2011 to stand for? Where do you want to leave your mark? And how can we help you succeed?” 

 

The Chancellor motioned to her colleagues behind her and some actually had the decency to smile. 

 

“This is a time to have a vision. You are facing some of the most amazing opportunities with a great group of people. It’s also a time of great conflict and turmoil. But as Cows, I know you all will rise above and go on to teach us all how to succeed by respecting differences and by listening and learning from each other. Even though I am just getting to know you, I can say each one of you is going to carve your own special path.”

 

She looked out to all of the students with bright blue eyes filled with hope and kindness. The vibe in the room was almost excited.

 

“We are so proud of the diversity that is South Park today. Now, I want you to take a second and look around this room at your amazing talented classmates. You are going to get a chance to know them and take every chance to do so. They are going to be your inspiration and they are going to be your friends for life. And some may even become your business partners. Once again, thank you for being here and we welcome you with open arms as the newest class of South Park University!”


	3. Intriguing Duo

Wendy walked tall and with purpose. Her hair tickled her shoulder blades as the dark shiny strands danced in the slight breeze. Her gaze swept the area but she didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular. She stood to the side against a grooved column of the Student Union watching all of the first years file out of the Great Hall. 

 

Taking a deep breath, Wendy turned to the laughter of the handful of first years and upperclassman that volunteered to oversee Welcome Week for the university. 

 

“Good job, everyone! Everything is running smoothly. We are done for the day but please be on the lookout for any families or new students that need help with anything. We want to make this the best first-year experience for all of us.” Wendy said in her enthusiastic way as she made sure to make contact with every person there. 

 

“Know your posts for today and tomorrow. Students are still moving in and need all the help they can get. And don’t be late!” Wendy said pointedly as the group began to disperse.

Wendy tugged on her necklace, moving it back and forth on its delicate chain as she scanned the quad for Stan. Last time she saw him he was talking to some of the football players. Wendy almost didn’t see him, hunched down with arms wrapped around the guy she heard about all summer long. It was an awkward hug though. Almost as if Stan was scared he was going to break the redheaded Omega if he made the wrong move.

 

“There you are,” Bebe bounced up beside her. “I swear I’m only going to see you in your PJs. You’re always working.” 

 

“Someone has to do it,” Wendy responded, briefly making eye contact before moving back to her targets of interest.

 

“Nice ass,” Bebe said appreciatively as she followed Wendy’s gaze. Bebe was Wendy’s best friend at South Park. They balanced each other well. Bebe was more brazen and carefree, where Wendy was more empathetic and involved. 

 

“He’s Omega.” Wendy admonished, sending a weak glare her way. 

 

“Even better,” Bebe said, flipping her thick, blonde mane of hair over her shoulder. 

 

Wendy watched in fascination as they interacted. Watched the way Stan laughed and joked with him. It had to be the first time Wendy had ever seen him so happy. Watched as he gestured at the mess of red curls and how he was quickly pushed away by the annoyed redhead. Watched as they peered into each other’s eyes. Wendy was close enough to see the way Stan looked at Kyle. A mixture of utter joy, intrigue, and wariness. Despite their awkwardness, there was a blatant familiarity present between them. Interesting. 

 

“What’s their deal?” Bebe asked, standing on her tiptoes to watch them over the sea of people moving around them. 

 

“Childhood friends.” She answered, distractedly. 

 

“Oh cool. Maybe both of you could help with his heats.” Wendy pursed her lips in disapproval at the comment.

 

“What? We are trying to go for that whole unity thing here, right?” Bebe asked, unbothered by her roommate’s reaction. 

 

“You’re being sexist,” Wendy said, rolling her eyes.

 

“Sorry. It’s not like they give us any opportunities to be around them.” Bebe said lamely. 

 

Wendy couldn’t fault her there. This would be the first time a Beta or Alpha came across an Omega, that was not a family member, since elementary school. 

 

“Shhhh, here they come,” Wendy whispered, really to ensure that Kyle didn’t pick up any of her friend’s comments more than anything else. She meant well, but Bebe could be excruciatingly blunt. 

 

Wendy took in the Omega fully this time as they both approached. His scent teased her nose but she quickly diverted her attention to something else. His eyes. They were the most intense deep green she had ever seen. They sparked with intelligence. It was a clear welcoming contrast to his wild mane of red curly hair. 

 

“Hi…again. I’m Wendy.” Wendy said before Stan could even open his mouth. He looked sick with nerves anyway. “Kyle, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah.” They both smiled awkwardly at each other. 

 

“Are you liking it here so far?” She asked. Her expression was so earnest it made Kyle smile, half in amusement, half in genuine pleasure. 

 

“Yeah, it’s different.” He shrugged. Nothing like being noncommittal. 

 

“Good! I really want this to work for all of us,” Wendy declared and her eyes glittered with passionate concern. “And if you have any bad experiences let me know. I know who to take it too.”

 

“She has tracked down every big name in this town. Even the mayor.” Bebe said it with such familiarity it made Kyle wonder how close the three were. 

 

“Uh…sure.” Kyle’s eyebrows drew together. “How do you all know each other? Same high school?” 

 

Bebe shook her head. “Me and Stan are athletes.” 

 

“And I did summer bridge over the summer.” Wendy gestured to her and Stan’s green polo shirts. ”They extended the opportunity for orientation leaders to some of the first year students that were on campus this summer.”

 

“More like Wendy harrassed the Dean of Students to let her join.” Stan corrected with a small smile. 

 

Wendy playfully pushed Stan’s shoulder. “Well, their lack of supervision and that sorry excuse for a student president calls for some sort of agency.”

 

“Summer bridge?”

 

“Yeah, it was an academic enrichment program to help students get acclimated to the college experience before everything starts getting crazy. I absolutely loved it. They sent information out to all of the schools I thought.” 

 

“My school didn’t get anything,” Kyle said. Wendy did exchange glances with Stan and Bebe, then. Kyle nodded once and clenched his jaw. Right. 

 

Bebe clucked her tongue. “ Now that I think about it, no Omegas were on campus over the summer.” 

 

The fact that there were no Omegas in the athletic program or the academic scholars' programs on campus was not lost on Kyle. He crossed his arms and frowned. A thoughtful look was in his eyes. It was pretty terrifying to Stan because he remembered the look crossing across Kyle’s face multiple times on Skype right before he let out cutting and perceptive remarks on whatever was the choice target of his righteous rage. 

 

“I think it’s because they're still working on their dorms.” Stan quickly suggested as he glanced at Bebe, then focused back on Kyle. The frown was almost permanent on Kyle’s face. 

 

“Oh yeah! I’m so sorry about that. Your mom had every right to be pissed. It’s not very welcoming and I really tried to the speedline the process but-” Wendy cut herself short and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. 

 

“She really did dude,” Stan confirmed, trying to alleviate the tension that was steadily growing. “Have you seen it though? Parker Hall, I think it’s called. Looks just like a prison.” 

 

“Really? I haven’t seen it.” Kyle caught Stan watching him and quickly looked away. 

 

“Let’s hope for Kyle’s sake they hired an interior designer with some sense.” Bebe shook her head in disgust. 

 

“I’m Bebe by the way,” Bebe added, taking a step forward to not-so-subtly take in Kyle’s scent. “What’s your major?”

 

“Biology, Pre-med.” 

 

“Oh, that sucks! We probably won’t have a lot of classes together.” Bebe pouted. “We’re both poli sci.” She elaborated as she motioned at Wendy. 

 

“Guess not,” Kyle muttered, leaning away from her. 

 

Stan shifted towards Wendy and threw his arm around her shoulder. “I was going to show Kyle around and grab a quick bite. Want to come with?” He asked, watching with amusement as Kyle continuously failed to put a comfortable distance between himself and Bebe. 

 

“I can’t. Still on duty. But you two go ahead and catch up.” Wendy gave them both a tired smile. 

 

“Okay. Um, I’ll text you later.” Stan offered. He released her after that and headed off with Kyle at his side. 

 

“You sure you want to send your man off alone with him? My mom said Omegas are notorious home wreckers.” Bebe casually stated, inspecting one of her blonde ringlets. 

 

“He’s not my anything, Bebe. I thought I told you we weren’t dating.” Wendy sighed. She wasn’t concerned with the topic at hand. 

 

Truly, she felt bad for the Omegas. Not because she was an Alpha and they needed protecting. No. She hated the way they were treated because no living being should have to be exposed to the antiquated ideals that ran rampant in their society. It was the reason she chose South Park over all of the more prestigious offers that landed in her mailbox. This school opened its doors to everyone, not just to whom society deemed worthy of higher education. She could make a difference here. Something to stop the offhand remarks and the wary apprehension from the Alphas and Betas alike.


	4. Super Best Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People, let me tell you about my best friend. -H. Nilsson

“Marsh!” Someone called as soon as the hostess began to lead them to their seats. 

 

“I’ll be right back,” Stan said as he waved in greeting to some of his teammates jammed elbow to elbow in a booth. Kyle continued on as the waitress led him down another row of booths.

 

Kyle was not surprised that Stan carried on with football at the college level. It became clear in middle school that Stan had a knack for physical activity. Style, agility, and strength flowed effortlessly off him in waves. Kyle remembered the footage of various football games Stan showed him at the start of tenth grade. He had an instinctual and thorough command of his body. 

 

He watched him walk into the room where a large group was gathering at the bar. God, he loved how his blue eyes sparkled as he laughed. It was directed at something one of his teammates said. Stan caught Kyle looking at him and tugged his lips into an exhausted half smile.

 

Kyle looked away. 

 

His skin prickled with the close proximity of Alphas. His nose was in a continuous irritated state from his last encounter with Wendy and Bebe. A heavy scent clouded the air and it was earthy, strong, and undeniably Alpha. Kyle was going to need time to even began to process these smells. They were so unfamiliar. His mother kept him in strictly Omega circles once his family discovered his caste. Hence, why he was only able to communicate with Stan via technology. It wasn’t necessarily difficult for her either since after elementary school society, unbeknownst to the students, separates Omegas from Betas and Alphas. Most of the students don’t know until high school what an Alpha or Omega even is. 

 

The restaurant Stan picked was about ten minutes from the hotel Wendy mentioned the Omegas would be staying at for the time being. Low lightening and minimalist decor covered the space. It was a nice place with a cozy atmosphere. Kyle hoped that his mom and Ike chose elsewhere. 

 

Kyle stretched out his legs under the table crossing them at the ankle before staring at menu options. "Hey you," The familiar woodsy smell with a hint of citrus practically lifted Kyle out of the less than spectacular food options. Stan plopped himself down into the booth and accidentally kicked Kyle’s feet.

 

“Sorry,” He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks darkened.

 

“Not a problem,” Kyle replied while shrugging. Their eyes met, and something in Stan deflated. No, relaxed. Like he’d been bracing for something and had finally dropped his guard. 

 

Stan put his feet on top of Kyle’s and smiled at him. Kyle chuckled and they sat this way all throughout their meal. 

 

-

Wow. He’s actually here. Not just behind some screen. But physically in front of him. Stan couldn’t help but take in every little detail. Ever since he was a child Kyle had vibrant frizzy red curls with a mind of their own and fair skin speckled with sunspots. Stan, on the other hand, tanned quickly and deeply in the sun. He always was captivated by Kyle’s hair. Scorching and fiery red, it almost looked like it would burn him if he reached out to touch. He never could fully appreciate it up close because he covered it all of the time with hats during their childhood. 

 

Kyle was like no one he ever met. Fast on his feet and fast with his head. Always talking. Kyle tended to be fiery and explosive, while Stan was generally more placid and always friendly to just about everybody. He watched him for a moment, then told himself that Kyle was probably perfectly aware of being watched, and turned towards his own menu.

 

“Stan?”

 

At the sound of his name coming from Kyle’s mouth, Stan’s heartbeat quickened. “Yeah?”

 

“Oh.” The waitress was there, staring at him expectantly already done with getting Kyle’s order. 

 

He randomly picked something. Not really interested in the content but just getting something in his belly. They handed off their menus after depositing their orders. 

 

“How’s football?” Kyle ventured.

 

“Ugh, it’s a fucking bitch dude.” Stan laid his head back on the wall of the booth, sighing. “Five a.m. workouts, ice baths, weight training, and then more workouts all day long.” 

 

Kyle winced in sympathy. “Tough, man.” 

 

Stan had to work harder at academics than Kyle did but out on the field was stronger and outweighed him by a little too. Both of them liked to talk ball though. Stan more invested on the football side while Kyle preferred basketball.

 

“How was the ride up here?” Stan inquired, spinning the straw in his glass of water.  
“It took forever.” Kyle rolled his neck and lifted his arms above his head. “We stopped like five times because my mom didn’t trust me or Ike driving.”

 

The move stretched his neck just right to make Stan able to steal a glance at every smooth, mouthwatering inch from his jaw to his collarbone. He cleared his throat trying to ignore the fact that his eyes wanted to track Kyle’s every movement and was glad to see that their food was heading in their direction. 

 

“Your dad didn’t come?”

 

“No, he has a super important case. As always.” 

 

The waitress placed their plates on the table and left when neither of them needed anything else. 

 

“Just in time, dude. I think my stomach is about to start eating itself.” Stan said through a yawn.

Kyle nodded before stabbing a piece of steamed broccoli.

 

“I’m so glad we’re at the same school,” Stan said fondly.

 

“I know right? I still can’t believe it.” 

 

“Me either,” Stan said. “Life’s been so…” _Empty, hard, unbearable._

 

“Yeah.” 

 

Stan looked into his bowl and absently chased a noodle around with his fork. That summer, Stan didn’t know what to make of it all and there were things they both didn’t know how to ask one another. It all didn't make sense for a long time for him after _that_ happened in Kyle’s backyard under the hot Californian sun. He was an Alpha and Kyle was an Omega. It was a new world for the both of them after that revelation. There were no more summer trips to San Francisco or winter vacations to Denver. And Stan absolutely hated every minute of it.

 

The waitress bounced back up to their table. She turned to Stan. “Would you like the check now-” 

 

“And what makes you think he’s paying for my meal?” Kyle asked, and there’s something strange about his tone, guarded and defensive.

 

“Um..I’m sorry. I just thought-”

 

Stan frowned and looked towards him. He wasn’t angry, was he? 

 

"You didn't think. That's the problem. Just because he's an alpha doesn't mean I'm incapable of paying-"

 

Jesus, what did he have to be angry about, anyway? It was a mistake. 

 

Stan couldn't really tell but he knew what it was like to be on the other side of that glare. The same things that drew them together when they were growing up, also set them against each other occasionally. One minute they’d be inseparable and the next minute they’d be shouting at each other with promises full of childish hate. But then, like a tide returning to a seaside, the two would be laughing and enjoying each other’s company as if nothing ever happened. It was a cyclical and inevitable occasion. Everyone expected it. Despite all of that, Kyle was the one Stan buddied up with when told to pick a partner for a game or bunked with during camping trips. They had their cutthroat moments but they knew how to get back on good terms with each other. 

 

“We’ll take them separately,” Stan interjected quickly with a small smile. 

 

-

The way Stan was able to be the epitome of the word “peaceful” really left Kyle perplexed. He was the complete opposite. His overall drive derived from a hidden, almost manic, desperation that radiated passion, intensity, and a kind of fuck you defiance in the face of challenges and obstacles. 

 

“Right.” The waitress swallowed barely glancing at Kyle, who is tearing at his straw wrapper furiously. “I’ll be right back with them.”

 

A long pause passed before Stan breathed. “Dude-”

 

“Don’t,” Kyle said softly and met his eyes. “Please.”

 

He didn’t want to think or deal with the sickened part of him that wanted Stan to buy his meals. The part that insistently told him since he fully grasped what an Alpha was how perfect a provider he would be. The part he wouldn’t let fuck up his friendship. 

 

Alarm pushed up Stan’s eyebrows but he didn’t push it. “Okay, sure. But if you need to-”

 

“I know,” He said quietly. Stan was sure Kyle tried to hide it, he looked hurt, and Stan supposed he didn’t blame him. Being constantly reminded of his caste and how inferior Betas and Alphas treated them couldn’t be easy. 

 

The waitress came back with the checks and quickly muttered her pleasantries and goodbyes before moving on to another table. 

 

Stan shifted uncomfortably in his seat and attempted to take a sip of water. But his hand seemed to momentarily forget where his mouth was located and a steady stream of ice cold water met his very dry polo shirt and cargo pants. 

 

Kyle snorted. “Nice one.” 

 

Stan slowly nodded before getting out of his seat. He extended his arms out as ice cubes rolled to the floor. “Come here, Kyle.” 

 

“Don’t you dare,” Kyle said as he swiftly fumbled out of the booth and backed away from a drenched Stan with his hand raised.

 

“But I missed you so much,” A mischievous look fell over Stan’s face and he continued forward. “You’re my super best friend.”

 

Kyle managed to swoop past him and serpentined around tables and booths as if he was charging toward the end zone. He could hear Stan's teammates cheering and encouraging him through fits of laughter at the visible wet streak on their freshman quarterback's front. He was able to get outside of the restaurant before Stan could wrap an arm around him. He guessed he still had the agility and the knack for evasive moves still on his side. 

 

Undeterred, Stan took a few large strides and caught up with Kyle right before he could jump into the truck. Stan grabbed him and pulled him to the hard line of his chest.  
Kyle froze. His skin ignited from being surrounded by Stan for a second time today. Albeit wetter this time though. But that’s not what Kyle was worried about. The same instinct that plagued him every time he breathed in that rich raw scent and the promise it carried with it flooded his senses. Mate. He could be his mate. 

 

Kyle wriggled out of his arms. “Thanks, a lot. Very refreshing.” 

 

They both jumped into the car slightly out of breath. Stan immediately removed the wet shirt and reached back in his back seat to pull out another one. 

 

Stan struggled to get the blasted thing on. It was always harder to put clothes on in the car. A set of green eyes on him sure wasn't helping. 

 

All Kyle could see was hard planes, smooth skin, and what an amazing smell-  
To distract himself, Kyle playfully swatted Stan on his bare stomach with the wet polo shirt from the floor of the car and Stan jumped.

 

“Ow! Goddammit!” He poked his head through his new dry shirt and did his best to pull off a sullen disappointed face but was not quite achieving it. 

 

“You look ridiculous.” Kyle started to laugh and pretty soon he was in a middle of a laughing fit. 

 

“You are such an asshole.” His fits of giggles seemed to be contagious since Stan soon joined in. Nothing was that funny but neither could help themselves. 

 

They were still laughing uncontrollably as Stan fired up the truck. They had finally calmed down and Stan was presentable-almost. Kyle looked over at his best friend once more and they lost their shit all over again. 

 

God, he missed this.


	5. Something New

“This is nice.” Tweek’s mother said softly. “Safe and secure.”

 

A full bed held together with cheap stripped pine and a rough canvas mattress was jammed against the far wall. A large fluorescent light, that would remain off, was attached to the ceiling. To his left, light shone dimly through the window onto the linoleum floor. Outside he could see the outline of mountains and the grey sky. In the back right corner, a broom and dustpan his mother used to sweep earlier leaned against the closet door. 

 

Richard fingered the lock by his door. “It’s certainly reliable. Like a fresh home-brewed coffee from the finest beans on a chilly morning.” He mused.

 

Tweek discovered that despite living with them for his entire existence, his parents were strangers to him. He could never tell what they felt or thought. It was always cryptic and colloquial messages with them. When he was younger they used to idly wipe his tears away and shove warm cups of coffee at him as he told them his fears but what were their fears? What were their secrets? They could have been brain-eating aliens or undercover government agents from another country for all he knew. Tweek eyed them wearily as they absently hovered in his new room. 

 

His mother turned towards his father. “It’s best we get going now, hon.” 

 

“Oh yes. We do have an obligation to the people of our town.” Richard agreed.

 

Their hug felt empty and unfulfilling. Like they were just going through the motions. 

 

“Don’t forget to take your special brew everyday son.” His mother slowly reached into her purse. “It helps.” She said placing a container on his desk.

 

Tweek nodded even as the apprehension of them leaving twirled in his gut. In a matter of a day, everything he knew had changed. 

 

College.

 

It wasn’t necessarily an option. Not necessarily his choice. But the overwhelming embarrassment and shame that kept threatening him every time he even considered voicing ‘wait’ or ‘no’ was why he was here.

 

His parents dressed it up as an opportunity to make them proud. But there was no way they cared that much about his mobility. Whatever this was, it would benefit the coffee shop in some way. He was practically a walking billboard for the establishment already. Over the years he would pick up on small things. Like his name for instance. Everything they did was for their true child. 

 

It was never about him. 

 

His father reached over to clasp Tweek’s stiff shoulder. “Don’t slip up Tweek. We don’t want to have to sell you into slavery.” Richard joked at the door. It was a bad joke. One he has continuously brought up throughout his childhood. One that still sadly set his nerves off. 

 

“Ah,” Tweek scraped at his scalp with blunt fingernails. Oh God, he needed them to get the fuck out.

 

Once they were in the hallway, his mother found the need to look back. “It will all work out. You don’t need to be afraid, pumpkin.” 

 

Tears stung his eyes and he quickly closed the door before they could see. Fuck her for acting like she gave a fuck. It was a ridiculous contradiction. He resented his family and loved them. And he needed them. Especially now. It would be so much easier if they both outwardly hated him. His brain could process that. But the wavering between robots and lackluster caring parents completely threw him. Tweek groaned and his shoulders slumped as he took in the empty suite. His eyes drifted past the small living room and kitchenette to other room identical to his own. His roommate had not moved in yet. It was quiet but he could still hear the faint buzzing from the A/C system. 

 

Alone. Alone in a strange place. South Park was not Green River. There was a weird foreign smell in the air and he felt exposed. He was a bit lost as well. He missed convocation since it fell on a Friday. Fridays and Saturdays were prime time at Tweek Bros Coffee shop. As soon as they got here he was bombarded with information from his community director and the way to get into his dorm room. It required his fingerprint which unleashed a variety of what-if scenarios. It was beyond overwhelming. She did mention he was one of the first people to move in. 

 

Tweek attempted to busy himself with setting his belongings in just the right place. He stared at the contents of his life on his bedspread. As much as he didn’t want to be in South Park, Tweek knew he couldn’t go back. Because his mom and dad would never live it down and probably sell him into slavery. And because he was beyond a royal fuck up. He was going to have to make this place work because he had nowhere else to go. And if this didn’t work out...christ he didn’t want to go down that mental path right now.

 

All of the sorting and hanging soon drained him of all his energy. Well, that and his intrusive anxious filled thoughts. Tweek closed the closet door and paused when he caught a glimpse of himself in the just Windexed mirror hanging there. He was thin, Jesus maybe a little too thin, since the childhood pudge melted away over the years and he grew taller. His freckles stood out on the bridge of his nose. His hair was the very definition of haphazard with blonde tufts sticking every which way. No thanks to his persistent tugging. His round light green irises were each outlined by a dark blue circle and his eyes were framed by thick blonde tipped eyelashes. He grimaced at his reflection and felt an anxious flutter in his chest. 

 

There was no way he was a college student. It was all happening too fast. 

 

He turned and collapsed onto his bed. He just needed to get through this day. He couldn’t go back. He couldn’t. He nestled in a blanket he's kept for years and inhaled the comforting scent. It was coffee and the indistinct smells of his room from home.  


* * *

Stan was right. Parker Hall was a fucking prison. At the top of a hill, above dark green trees, the building was built with uninviting grey stone and barred windows. The lobby- Was it a lobby? Kyle wasn’t sure. The main area was ballroom sized, with shiny linoleum floors. Four faux leather couches were arranged in a square around a coffee table. 

 

He studied the Welcome to South Park schedule plastered next to the elevator buttons as he waited for said elevator. Classes didn’t officially start until tomorrow but there was an Omega welcome event at Parker Hall tonight. And it was mandatory. So much for hanging out with Stan. The last time he saw him was at the Lofts where he dropped him off after hanging out at the restaurant. He was sadly replaced by his mother and brother all weekend long. He just gave them their final goodbyes. They were moving in things all afternoon and it was finally done.

 

His roommate had yet to show their face. He shouldered the heavy door to his suite open after messing with the biometric lock. Nevermind. 

 

He stood just inside his door frame with shifting eyes. 

 

“Hey dude,” Kyle said, holding out his hand to shake. “I’m Kyle. It’s nice to meet you.” 

 

The blonde approached him cautiously, like a wild animal, and took his hand, his hand slim but his grip surprisingly firm.

 

“Tweek,” he stuttered out, barely looking Kyle full in the eye. “Um, nice to meet you too.” 

 

Tweek quickly pulled his hand away. The guy fidgeted in the same spot, his light green eyes glancing from his side of the suite to the door. Almost like he was coming up with a hundred reasons why he should either stay or bolt down the hall. 

 

While he contemplated, Kyle checked out the poster of the modern warplanes, the fish tank, the dartboard, and the mounted sword.

 

“Woah, cool dude.” He pointed over his new roommate’s shoulder. “What kind of sword is that?”

 

Tweek jumped and followed his gaze. “Scimitar.”

 

“It’s real?” 

 

“Yeah?” He said it like he didn’t believe it himself.

 

“Well between the security system and your sword we don’t have to worry about anyone messing with us huh?”

 

“Someone messing with us?” Tweek shook his head and clutched his hands in and out of fists. “God...God, this was such a bad idea! Alphas. Betas. And who knows what else. I’m so doomed.”

 

“Hey, hey! Calm down. Just a stupid small talk joke.” Kyle said stepping in front of the path he was pacing.

 

Tweek shook his head fiercely. “Gah, but it can happen! Especially to me.”

 

Kyle held his hands out in answer and blinked at him. “Uh, okay?” 

 

Kyle put his back to him and went right back to unpacking his things. “Are you ready for this mandatory meeting tonight?” There were a variety of coffee mugs of varying size and colors in the cabinets and a first aid kit underneath the sink. 

 

Tweek paused and looked at him sideways. “Not really.” 

 

“They’ll probably just talk about the obvious. You know like how we are Omegas and the bullshit that comes with it. The same spiel we’ve heard since 9th grade.” Kyle grumbled closing a cabinet. 

 

“And can you believe they are making us give our heat schedules to the professors. That is such a breach of privacy.” Kyle continued on in what felt like the beginning of a rant. “How long are your heats?” 

 

Tweek’s brows furrowed. “I’ve never-I don’t have heats,” He finally got out. 

 

Kyle’s eyes narrowed in on Tweek’s face and he raised an eyebrow. “Really? What level of Omega are you?”

 

“Ah,” Tweek bit his lip and hesitated to answer. He felt beyond confused. The way Kyle was looking at him made his stomach twist in a not so good way. Was he supposed to be having them by now? Sure people at his high school got them. But he didn’t know if not having them was such a big deal. His parents never indicated that he was sick or anything. 

 

“You have to be a low level,” Kyle said matter of factly. “Lucky. I’m right in the middle and the longest I’ve had it was two days. Trust me they are absolutely humiliating. You’re not missing anything.”


	6. Know The Rules

The welcome meeting was being held in the common room on the first floor. Well-worn couches and chairs had been placed all around the room, creating nooks for studying and one television viewing area. Dozens of Omegas crowded on and around the pieces of furniture, chatting and laughing. Tweek and Kyle hovered by the wall closest to the door. There seemed to be more air and room there. 

 

A middle-aged woman and man stood near the television talking amongst themselves as more students filed into the space. The woman had short black hair in the style of a bob with a kind smile. She checked her watch and wrinkled her upturned nose. 

 

“Okay, everyone! It’s about time to get started,” she said. The chattering buzz subsided as everyone settled in. 

 

“Hello and welcome again to SPU. I am Ms. Ellen one of your community directors.” She paused and gestured at her colleague. “And this is Mr. Garrison. He is also a community director at the university.”

 

“Sadly.” Mr. Garrison had a receding hairline with patches of gray hair and wore a pair of square frame glasses. 

 

Kyle groaned under his breath, ready to get the whole thing over with. There was so much more he could be doing with his time. Planning his schedule, getting ahead on his readings, or better yet hanging out with his best friend that he hasn’t seen for years. 

 

“On behalf of the university, we want to apologize for not having your dorm ready for you on Friday. We just want to make this a safe yet fun experience for you.” 

 

“We don’t want to get in the way of your needs either.” Ms. Ellen added. 

 

Mr. Garrison rolled his eyes. “Basically you can still fuck like rabbits with anyone you choose.” 

 

“Mr. Garrison-”

 

“Well, what do you want? For me to preach to them about openness and acceptance? When I was younger you didn’t get a choice. You bent over, let them have their way with you and everyone kept it moving! That’s how it happened in those days.” 

 

The crowd of Omegas and Ms. Ellen included were left reeling. 

 

“Oh dear,” A blonde with shoulder-length hair and British accent covered his mouth in shock. Another blonde next to him with an undercut patted his shoulder to comfort him. 

 

Kyle’s hands were balled into fists. Tweek was shaking so badly coffee was decorating the freshly painted wall and new linoleum floor. 

 

“Mr. Garrison!” She fixed him with a stare that could have easily frozen the ocean. 

 

“Oh fine then! Silence me. See if I care.” He huffed folding his arms. 

 

Her smile was strained. “As I was saying, Alphas and Betas are still welcome here in the dorm. We ask that you get them to sign in at the front desk. But only you can let them in your room. Those doors are reinforced and every room is scent proof so the likelihood of an unwelcome visitor is slim.”

 

That seemed to abate the nervous energy floating in the room as well as the souring sweet smell of scared Omegas. Kyle scratched his nose in irritation. God, out of all the senses to enhance. 

 

She glanced at her clipboard. “Okay onto our expectations. There is no curfew. Try to keep your heats contained to your own space and not the public ones. We have Omega collars in various places throughout campus but you are not required to wear one. You are adults and perfectly capable of making your own decisions. We don’t want to stifle you in any way. But if any incidents occur the faculty is ready and willing to put more restrictions in place.” 

 

A brief fit of murmurs filled the space and many students began to fiddle with the strap of thick fabric around their necks. Kyle was not wearing a collar and he had no plans to wear one ever again. He threw the one his mother insisted he wore throughout most of his Omega life right into his new closet. 

 

The collars were supposed to act as a deterrent for Alphas to not bite an Omega’s treasured neck gland. An exposed neck meant easy access to bind an Omega to the Alpha. Incidental bondings occurred quite often before the collar was placed on the market and it had damaging effects on both parties to break a bond. 

 

Well, Kyle would not give an Alpha the opportunity with or without the ugly ass neck strap. He glanced at Tweek, who was covering his collarless neck with a shaking hand. He probably never used a collar a day in his life but not for the same reason Kyle refused to wear one. It's not like he needed to. He never had a heat before and he barely smelled like an Omega. And Kyle was more than a little envious. 

 

“Quiet hours are in effect starting at 8 p.m. on weekdays. Please respect your fellow peers during these times.” Ms. Ellen continued. 

 

It seemed that many of the policies listed in the student handbook were just for show. There to assure the parents that they were sending their fragile Omega children to a nice strict no-nonsense school. If his mother heard any of this Kyle was pretty sure she would faint from outrage. 

 

She lifted a finger in the air. “Oh! And there is an Omega clinic on campus near student health. They are a great resource for you all. Scent suppressants and contraceptives are there for free. They also have a service where you can also request Alphas or Betas to help alleviate some of the tension you all experience. If you feel like you need a more secure environment they have rooms as well for your heats.” 

 

Once she was finished with her long list on her clipboard Ms. Ellen looked up and smiled. “So that’s it! Me and Mr. Garrison will also be available if you need anything.” She heavily emphasized the word me. “If you have any questions, our numbers are posted throughout the building. Please do not hesitate to call. We look forward to getting to know you!”

 

She had to yell the last part because everyone was already on their feet and heading for the doors. 

 

Kyle fiddled with his phone and checked it for the time as he waited with the rest of the people not willing to climb flights of stairs to get to their rooms. He was on the eighth floor and physically exhausted from moving all day. Stairs were out of the question.

 

9:45.

 

Stan had conditioning at five in the morning. He thought it was best to just let him get some sleep. He gazed fondly at their last text exchange. Stan had changed and at the same time was still the same. He was a grown-up version of the kid who’d been his partner in crime for what seems like forever. Stan was his first hint about his caste. And now, almost a whole decade later, his Omega side was still more than a little attached to him. He must have imprinted on him or something. He surely did not want to come off as the too fucking clingy Omega. Whatever messed up biology shit was happening had to stop. It wasn’t healthy to think of a best friend in that way. It was a while he was in this state of turmoil that he barely noticed the bushy brown hair that accosted him.

 

“Hello, Kyle.” The girl he met at convocation was there. Rebecca. She was up close and personal, looking directly into his eyes. 

 

Kyle jerked back, and his elbow hit the metal frame of the elevator doors. Weird. He didn’t remember giving her his name.

 

She sort of reminded him of Tweek. In the social awkward department at least. But Tweek was much more abrasive with his reactions while she carried a consistent sense of calm, borderline detachment. 

 

“This is the guy I was telling you about,” Rebecca’s voice had a quiver like quality that did not seem to be related to anxiety.

 

A brunette with shoulder length dark brown hair and a yellow sweater stood next to her and they were connected at the hand. She strode closer to him, looking him up and down.  
Her eyes were unblinking, calculating and immobile as the rest of her face. She was frozen there for three to five seconds before the corners of her mouth melted into a soft smile.

 

“Hi, I’m Leslie.” She reached her unoccupied hand out. Kyle stared at it briefly and could hear himself swallow then. He felt Tweek to his left covertly tug at his jacket and could barely make out what he was trying to tell him over the sudden percussion of his pulse. 

 

“Kyle,” He took it despite Tweek’s whispered protests. The flesh on flesh contact had been mercifully brief but her hand had all the warmth of black ice. A chill worked its way down his spine. “And this is my roommate, Tweek.”

 

Tweek hunched his shoulders and gripped both Kyle’s jacket and coffee mug tighter. “Ngh...hi!”

 

Leslie gave Tweek a passing once over with blank staring eyes. Then her eyes were back on him. They were sharp, intense, and seemed to bore into him. Kyle shivered. There was something very off about Leslie. 

 

Both of the elevator doors alerted their arrival to the masses with a resounding chime. 

 

“Well, see you.” Rebecca tilted her head apologetically, looking somewhere over Kyle’s shoulder. She tucked her wispy hair behind her ear before Leslie tugged her into the other elevator. 

 

The entire encounter was eerie. He turned to the side to gauge his roommate’s reaction. Tweek flinched back from him releasing his grip as if he just realized how much he was invading Kyle’s personal space. 

 

“They were weird, man,” Tweek said before he shuffled forward onto the elevator.

 

“Yeah,” Kyle agreed. But as far as Kyle knew, Tweek was just as weird but decided it was best not to mention that. 

 

The two blondes he saw earlier were on the elevator too. And the one with the undercut didn’t seem to have an off switch. He chittered and chatted all the way to the sixth floor to what Kyle guessed was his roommate. Kyle discovered that one of them came all the way from England to attend the university. Tweek was staring intently at the blue digital ascending number above the elevator doors. And Kyle, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, started thinking about all of the things he had to do for the first day of classes tomorrow.


	7. First Day Chronicles

“There, look.”

 

“There’s no way I’m going to be able to pay attention in class if they all smell like that.”

 

“Wow, there’s so many of them!”

 

A flurry of whispers followed Kyle from the moment he left Parker Hall. People actually physically stopped to crane their necks to get a look at all of the omegas on campus. Or stood on the tips of their toes or doubled back to pass him more than once. Some even had the audacity to point. One beta, in particular, attempted to pet his hair but the deathly glare and growl Kyle gave him stopped him right in his tracks.

 

Kyle felt like an exhibit at a zoo. He wished they would all just go about their business so he could find his way to his classes in peace. 

 

When he did actually find the building and room he was supposed to be in the class was just about to start. 

 

“Good morning students! I’m sure you all are tickled pink to see me. if you are still trickling in and are also Omega I ask you all to sit towards the back.” A peculiar balding old man with leathery wrinkles, bushy and white eyebrows announced. 

 

Kyle stopped his trek to a seat close to the front row. 

 

“What for?!” He challenged. Between the constant gawking and confusing buildings that all looked the same Kyle had just about had it. 

 

The professor turned to him with a perplexed look as if this was the first time someone ever questioned him before. He also wore a faded yellow Hawaiian button up shirt over tan pants making him look more like a tired elderly tourist than an esteemed professional. 

 

“It’s simply the ideal solution.” The professor said simply. “Your lot is rather distracting and while I would love to have you closer I’d doubt it would help with the intellectual deficits many studies have suggested you all possess.” 

 

He clasped his hands together and rubbed them, surveying the room. “Anyway, for those of you who haven’t heard all the nasty rumors about me, my name is Dr. Mephesto and I’m the department chair of the Biology department here at South Park.” As he spoke, he twisted off the top of his Thermos and the pungent scent of black coffee filled the room.

 

“This class is Biology 150. And biology is a science for those of you that are unaware. And in science, we teach the facts derived from concrete results. Not the fluffy propaganda that the whiny new age supporters are spewing.”

 

Silence followed his introduction. His voice was as dusty as his appearance, low and gravely but they all caught every word. He took a sip of coffee and placed it down on his desk.

 

“So let’s find out what you all know.” He said. “Close and put away all electronics please.”

 

Shit.

 

Dr. Mephesto walked to the center of the room, facing the crowd of students. “You. What is your name?”

 

“Clyde.” A dark-haired kid in the middle section answered. Kyle was surprised he didn’t pee on the floor. 

 

“How many cranial nerves are there in the human body?”

 

“I know this one.” The guy said, clutching a pencil tight in his hands. 

 

Kyle did too. There were twelve cranial nerves. Olfactory, optic, oculomotor, trochlear, trigeminal-

 

“Uh...twelve.” 

 

“Good. You managed to pull that one out.” He turned back to his desk and picked up a wrinkled paper covered in coffee stains from his desk. 

 

“Here I have the roster with all of your names. When I call on you I expect an answer within the first ten seconds. Just like Mr. Clyde so kindly demonstrated for the rest of you.” Dr. Mephesto eyed them with mild amusement. 

 

Kyle caught a few anxious whispers around him and he wasn’t surprised. No teacher at his high school for Omegas ever talked to their students like this. He had more authority in his pinky finger than all of the faculty that worked there. Kyle didn’t really know what to think, he just knew he was more than a little agitated.

 

“Nelson!” 

 

A beta with a short curly bob shot her hand in the air. “Here, sir.”

 

“What are the three subdivisions of macroscopic anatomy?”

 

He knew that one too. Systemic, regional, and surface anatomy. 

 

“Regional, systemic, and surface.” She beamed.

 

“Wonderful!” 

 

Kyle took a deep breath glad he wasn’t chosen as one of the first victims. He knew most of them. But the questions only seemed to be getting harder.

 

“Broflovski!” 

 

“Yes?”

 

“Oh, an Omega.” Dr. Mephesto said condescendingly and Kyle could tell he could barely keep the smirk off his face as he looked at him directly with his black beady eyes. “I’ll give you an easy one then.” 

 

Kyle was pretty sure he was going to end up assaulting someone today and he was not above doing it to a faculty member at this point. 

 

“Define the term aneuploidy.” 

 

He had no idea. Kyle glanced at the girl beside him and she looked just as stumped as he was.

 

“Um, I don’t know.” And he hated he didn’t too. He refused to cower though and forced himself to keep looking into that cold calculating stare. He had tried to brush up on some concepts over the summer before coming here but Mephesto couldn’t expect him to know everything Darwin and Agassiz wrote on a piece of paper. He wouldn’t need this class if that was the case. 

 

“Well, I suppose a high school education like yours can only take you so far.” He shrugged. “And for future reference, we don’t say um in this class.”

 

Every single soul in the room was either staring at him or trying very hard not to stare at him. This was all so unfair that Kyle opened his mouth to argue again. “This is bullshit! You preach how you’re all about facts and science but you’re a biased asshole!” 

 

Dr. Mephesto looked mildly incredulous before he crossed his arms over his chest. “A colleague of mine did warn that your kind was prone to emotional outbursts.”

 

Kyle opened his mouth to respond, but he cut him off.

 

“And why do you think I am biased Mr. Broflovski? You have done nothing to prove my theories wrong. I expect the same amount of quality work from all of my students and encourage you to be a critical thinker. I will not show you or anyone in here preferential treatment. Mr. Broflovski this is your education and you should be more conscientious in the future. Do you understand?” 

 

“Yes but-”

 

“And I want to believe you Mr. Broflovski and perhaps it would be best if we spoke after class to ensure your future here at our university,” he said pointedly before turning back towards the whiteboard.

 

Kyle swallowed hard and there was still a moderate amount of anger beneath his growing embarrassment. He had caused a scene on his first day of class. Not once but twice. He had never ever been reprimanded by a teacher before either. 

 

“Anywho,” The student next to him sent him a sympathetic glance as Dr. Mephesto moved on in his lecture. Kyle felt hot, sweaty, and stupid as he sank back down in his chair to avoid the eyes that had not left him since he left the comfort of his dorm that morning. 

-

Kyle hovered by the large narrow desk of the lecture room as Dr. Mephesto scribbled into a tiny notebook. Not one person made eye contact with Kyle as all of the students filed out of the classroom. Probably in fear of meeting the same fate if the professor thought they might be even a tiny bit associated with him. 

 

“ Professor-”

 

“I see you, Mr. Broflovski. Kindly let me finish my thoughts.” 

 

Kyle’s jaw snapped shut. He hated him. And the only reason he was here right now, was because the man was in charge of giving him a grade. All throughout the lecture he was not able to answer any of the questions he threw his way and he knew he thought he was just some stereotypical Omega idiot. But what kind of person got off on putting their students on the spot on the first day back to school? Plus he had humiliated Kyle and all of the Omegas in front of everyone when he knew the shit they had to go through just to be there. 

 

Dr. Mephesto placed his pen down started to read from his notebook. He took a long, deliberate sip from his coffee mug then placed the mug gingerly back onto the desk. Blood was pounding in Kyle’s ears. The asshole was dragging this out on purpose. All because he could. He was flaunting his power right in front of his face. Finally, he tore the page from his notebook and handed the paper to Kyle. 

 

“Some bedtime reading for you,” Dr. Mephesto explained. “I expect for you to be all caught up by the end of the week. As I’ve stated before, I don’t give preferential treatment to anyone Mr. Broflovski. If you do really belong here at South Park you will do all of the work I assign no matter the extraneous things you experience. No exceptions.”

 

Kyle grabbed the paper and it trembled in his hand. There was a list of books and articles. Kyle desperately wanted to tell him that he didn’t need it. He knew majority of those questions and the sick game Mephesto clearly enjoyed did nothing to demonstrate what he knew. He was perfectly capable of passing the class on his own accord and didn’t need to be an exception. 

 

Kyle didn’t push the matter any further and instead gritted out a “Thank you.”

 

He nodded his goodbye before turning towards the door. He could feel those beady eyes on him as he left the room. And as he stomped away with his mind racing, he made a promise that there was no way in hell he was going to let this man win. Even if he had to memorize all the lecture slides and the textbook every night. He was going to do whatever he could to prove how wrong he was about Omegas. 

 

Few people were in the hallway but everyone he passed he felt their eyes. Let the staring marathon recommence. There was another Omega in the hall clutching their textbook to their chest as an Alpha cornered them into the wall. Kyle could not hear what they were saying but he could see where the Alpha’s eyes were. 

 

Shit, he could smell the apprehension from the Omega student all the way down the hall. At least he was wearing a collar. He knew he probably should not interfere. But he couldn’t just sit there and watch the clear defilement of his caste in public. The Alpha was out of line. And before Kyle could think himself out of it, he moved forward. He’d walk by them with the pretext that he was lost and feign trouble with his phone. He would ask the Omega for help and pretend to be too scared to engage the Alpha with the hope of separating the poor fool from the coercive asshole.

 

It was bound to work but just when he was about to approach them the Omega pushed by the Alpha and went into the stairwell. And the Alpha followed soon after. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Where the fuck did this kid grow up at? Didn’t they know not to turn their back on these fuckers? Ever? 

 

He approached the threshold that led to the back stairs with renewed interest when all of the sudden he heard them. And then saw them. No shame. No attempt to keep quiet. Slobbing over each other’s faces and rutting in the open like a pair of animals. The Alpha was gripping the Omega tight, rumbling about how long its been and how grateful they are. 

 

Kyle stumbled away from the scene flustered, perplexed, and more than a little dejected. What gains could he even begin to make if the people in his caste just kept falling into the same degrading cycle? After all the bullshit he heard spewing from every source of media. 

 

_Omegas were distractions._

_Mindless holes to be used._

_There is no intellectual substance or depth with their kind._

_No good for the productivity of society._

_Unreliable._

 

After all of that shit, how could people still be okay- _happy_ even- with the tired roles shoved down their throats. Ugh. He didn’t understand his own fucking caste. This is why he should be a Beta. Hell, even an Alpha at this point. 

 

He gripped the straps to his backpack tight and wondered if anyone else could hear the soft moans and growls floating in the air behind him. He _should_ report them.


	8. First Day Chronicles Pt. 2

Tweek was early. Almost by thirty minutes. And it was excruciating to be this early, to be the only one there, alone, and painfully awkward. But no matter how early he was the idea of being late was absolutely mortifying. He didn’t want to think what would explicitly happen but he knew it would be bad. So, he preferred to be early no matter how painful it was to be.

 

The hall was empty and he leaned against the white painted wall with his messenger bag at his feet. His favorite travel mug bringing a sense of comfort every time he peered down the long hallway when he heard a sound echoing off the surfaces. He scowled at the classroom he would have to go in soon. Everything here reeked of strangers. Alphas and Betas he didn’t know. He felt so out of place and he hated it. 

 

He forcibly reminded himself there was nowhere else to go. Unless he wanted to be a slave. He could run away. Maybe he could try to live in the woods. Who was he kidding? There’s no way he could do that. He’d be dead in a week. Brutally murdered by a desperately hungry grizzly bear. But what did it matter? He was already surrounded by predators that could devour him as well. Every time he inhaled he smelled them and was sent back into a spiral of anxiety. 

 

Jesus, what was was he going to do? 

 

The class he was waiting for was an intro to English class that everyone was required to take. He didn’t have a major yet since he found nothing that remotely resembled what he was trained to do since he was a little kid. Nope. Coffee shop management was not a major. Out of all of the other one hundred plus options to choose from Tweek was more than a little overwhelmed. What if it was the wrong one? What if he didn’t graduate on time? His advisor spent almost forty minutes assuring him that it was completely normal to have an undeclared major. He could just take the core classes. So, here he was with a schedule full of general education classes. 

 

His wild thoughts ceased momentarily when he heard steady footsteps walking in his direction. He glared down the hall even as he gripped the metal casing of his coffee mug tight. He heard keys next and the welcoming neutral earthy scent that both his parents had drifted towards him. A young Beta woman with long blonde hair strode towards him with a small black briefcase at her side. She smiled at him when their eyes met. 

 

“Good morning,” She greeted before attending to the door. Once it was open Tweek claimed a desk that was close to the door but far away enough that he didn’t have to make eye contact with every person that entered. 

 

The class was pretty small once everyone trickled in. Couldn’t be more than thirty people in the room. The young Beta woman briefly introduced herself as Professor Stevenson before instructing everyone to find their assigned partners based on the document she posted to the online portal. She explained that these were to be their groups for the rest of the semester. 

 

“Use this time to get to know your group members and for planning on how to best collaborate. Other than that you are free to go. If you have any questions about the course or the syllabus I’ll be here for another thirty minutes.” 

 

This is all how Tweek wounded up standing awkwardly next to a guy in the back row who hadn’t looked up from his phone since class started. Strands of black hair peeked from the blue chullo hat on his head and he was sitting in a sort of careless way. He was intimidatingly attractive and Tweek's senses were hyper-aware of the unmistakable scent. Alpha. His group member was an Alpha. 

 

Tweek stared at him with wide eyes, his stomach knotting and heart racing as all the anxious thoughts he had surrounding Alphas rushed to the forefront of his mind. 

 

Run. Now. Drop out. Leave and don’t look back.

 

He bristled with the demands of his anxious riddled mind but his legs were frozen in place. His survival instincts and the promise he made to his parents warred over his next actions. He did tell them he would give it a shot. But they didn’t say he’d be in direct contact with Alphas without the barrier of Tweek Bros. cashier counter and the AR-15 rifle behind it. He felt naked and exposed. He was out in the open with nowhere to hide, no way to protect himself. 

 

He moved forward uneasily. “Hey, ah…you’re Craig Tucker, right?” 

 

Craig stopped and looked up slowly at Tweek with cold, vacant eyes that still managed to pierce through whatever fell into his line of sight. It didn’t help that they were a weird greenish gold color. Tweek was pretty sure he has never seen anyone with gold eyes in Utah before. 

 

Tweek grew up knowing to be wary of anything unnatural or unique. Everything was the same in his hometown. Predictable. 

 

Craig just stared at him. Those unnatural eyes were focused right on Tweek. They weren’t looking away. All of his concentration was there. Tweek’s mouth felt dry and he virtually felt all of the air smashed out of his lungs. 

 

“Sure,” The guy shrugged as if he could care less about whether he really was Craig Tucker or not. This bothered Tweek. The ambiguity of it at least. It was a yes or no question. 

 

When the guy said nothing further, Tweek gave him a funny a look. He was way too close to an Alpha and now he had to work with him. He didn’t even bring his coffee mug to throw at him if he tried to attack. He was hopping or vibrating and he kept grabbing his hair in a fist as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Tweek guessed that he was probably acting like a total freak. His anxiety did that. _A lot_. He did his best to still his movements. 

 

“Ngh,” Tweek swallowed down the lump in his throat and tried again. “I think you’re in my group.” 

 

Craig raised his thick eyebrows in acknowledgement and handed his phone over. Tweek fumbled with the sleek device, forgot his number a couple of times, and how to use a keyboard in the span of a few minutes before he managed to save his information. 

 

Their hands brushed when Tweek tried to give the phone back and the contact sent a surge of energy through Tweek’s entire body. He quickly pulled his hand away and eyed Craig warily. 

 

“What?” Tweek finally asked when Craig continued to stare at him with a strange light in his gold eyes. There was something in his gaze that was barely noticeable but it immediately set Tweek on high alert. He wasn’t sure if Craig was trying to stop himself from attacking him or not. He could hardly read the guy. And it unnerved him. 

 

Suddenly, other students were starting to get up to leave. Behind him, he could feel them moving and the smell hit him again full force as a devastating reminder. Alphas. He was surrounded by Alphas. There were too many. His senses were on high alert to every noise, movement, and sound of deadly predators walking around him made.Tweek’s heart pounded in his chest and his breath started to come out in quick bursts. Shit no, not here. 

 

Craig stood up and moved in front of Tweek until he was standing inches from his face. He assaulted his senses until all Tweek could do was focus on him. He glared at him, not willing to show his fear in front of him. It would just give him more reason to attack. He waited for something to happen. Anything. But Craig just stood there and looked impossibly calm and steady. Tweek tried to pull away, not sure why he was just standing there. Then he realized his lips were moving.

 

“Are you okay?” Craig repeated and Tweek blinked at him in confusion.

 

“Yeah I’m fine,” He grunted. If Tweek noticed that his heart had calmed and he could breathe again it was only because Craig was staring at him for no reason with those unnatural eyes. 

 

Weird, man.

 

Craig took a step back, then another. He turned like nothing was different, like he wasn’t a fucking weirdo. “Just text me when you want to meet.” 

 

Tweek nodded dumbly and immediately started picking at one of the colored bandages wrapped around the finger he burnt while making his morning coffee. And without another word Craig gathered his things and left. Relief flooded him now that he was in an almost empty classroom. The professor was at the front with her attention glued to her phone. Did she not catch anything that just happened? 

 

This place was weird. So fucking weird. There was absolutely no way he was going to be able to function here. It all had to be a very bad joke. Just like this group project.


	9. Poor White Trash

It was a typical day at South Park Automotives. Kenny yawned and he approached his beat down truck hoping he could get a nap in before his next shift. He didn’t have to pick Karen up today. She had Art club. He couldn’t believe she was still in high school. A sophomore making pretty decent grades. He couldn’t help the proud little smile that worked its way across his face. 

 

His mind drifted to what they would eat for dinner. He could probably sneak leftovers from City Wok when Mr. Kim wasn’t looking. He doubted anyone else in his family had any prospects. His mother and father were just as irresponsible as ever. Stuart McCormick lost his job last month and now Kenny was the breadwinner with his minimum wage jobs at the car shop and City Wok. 

 

His text alert blared from his phone as he played with the ignition wires to the truck his manager let him keep after Kevin totaled their last car on a drunken binge. He scooped the phone from his pocket of old denim pants that hung loosely around his hips. He frowned. He didn’t recognize the number and he didn’t give his cell number out to many people. He opened his lock screen on the cracked outdated iPhone to read the content of the message.

 

 _Hey bro it's Kevin. Come to the house asap._

 

Kenny stared at the text message for several very long seconds. Great. Kevin was the last person Kenny wanted to talk to on his break. At this point, he was no better than their fucking parents. He was hanging out with a bunch of low life assholes and he was on track to becoming a hardcore drug addict too. He probably wanted money, junkies always needed cash. 

 

Kenny might smoke a little pot and he might have a little garden in his backyard. But no matter how many plants he grew or how much he smoked, his life wasn’t about drugs. He had other stuff going on, good stuff. He was working his ass off to get Karen out of South Park. It was too late for him but she didn’t have to stay. She could have a future that wasn’t tainted by their parents' shit. 

 

Kenny loved his brother, but he didn’t like him. Kevin had always been trouble and Kenny did not want anything to do with him or his drugged out friends. Most people grew out of their juvenile delinquency. Kevin had just grown further into his. Kenny was all ready to give him the boot but Karen always refused. In her heart, she knew that Kevin was poison but she felt they should still support him. He was family. Pack. No matter how much he continuously trashed up their life. 

 

His phone went off two times on his way over to the house. But he ignored the generic ringtone and let it go to voicemail. He was in no mood to deal with Kevin’s bullshit. The only thing he wanted to do was to keep Kevin and those assholes he associated with far away from Karen as possible. 

 

He sighed heavily and coughed when he approached the same run-down house he lived in since he was in diapers. The door opened up to reveal the living room. It was filthy and smelled like a cross between a beer joint and a locker room. There were dirty dishes on the tables and beer cans and bottles everywhere sprinkled liberally with wadded up Hardee's bags among the dirty clothes and other junk. His eyes found Kevin on the couch but he was not the only person in the room. 

 

A man sat comfortably next to him with black hair pulled back into an immaculate style, dark coal black eyes, and a sharply defined nose. Loogie. He heard about him. Kevin’s crowd slurred on about him a lot. Two more Betas lounged about; the way their eyes tracked Kenny’s every move belying their apparently casual disinterest. Warning bells were going off like crazy in Kenny’s head. 

 

“Have a seat,” The round man gestured to the dining room chair that someone must have pulled out the kitchen. 

 

Kenny stared at Loogie. He always wore high-end suits apparently and right now looked completely out of place amongst the trash in their house. His round face and brown eyes looked back at him. 

 

“I’ll stand,” Kenny said. 

 

Loogie shrugged, his hands clasped lightly in front of his lap. 

 

“Welcome, Kenneth. It is nice of you to join us. I wanted to formally announce that as of today, I officially own you fuckers. The McCormicks are the property of Loogie & Co.” He smiled, though there was something hard and artificial in his expression. 

 

“What?” Kenny kept his voice low and even. Fucking Kevin.

 

“You’re going to turn your next harvest over to me.”

 

“Why would I do that?” Kenny said in shock. 

 

“You’re going to deal for me, too.” The smile slipped from his face and the dark eyes that looked back at Kenny were flat and cold as a shark’s.

 

“What?!”

 

Loogie held a hand decorated with silver rings up. “No need to get loud. Take five to process everything.” Loogie’s expression was the patient patronizing mask of a parent explaining something complex to a child. 

 

“Chill bro, Loogie is going to make things happen for us,” Kevin added softly.

 

Kenny had no doubt that Loogie could make all kinds of things happen, but Kenny didn’t want any of them. He opened his mouth just to say as much and then Loogie interrupted him.

 

“There is no need to make this unpleasant. It would be much easier to simply kill your pathetic pack, but I am a reasonable man.” 

 

Kenny itched to light a cigarette. He needed to do something with his hands. He didn’t dare look at Kevin. If he did, he was pretty sure he was going to kill him. 

 

Loogie cleared his throat. “Here is a burner. I’ll be in touch.” He placed the burner on the dirty three-legged coffee table. 

 

Kenny just glared at it. “I can’t believe you associate with this douche.”

 

Kevin hunched his shoulders. He was covered in sweat and his eyes were dazed. 

 

“Ken-” Kevin tried, but Kenny cut him off. 

 

“Just stop. I don’t know what the fuck you did but I’m just a cashier. That’s it. I’m not into this other shit.”

 

“Bro-”

 

“No. You need to hear this Kevin. I know you don’t think much of my job, but it keeps a roof over our fucking heads. Food in our bellies. No one else is. Mom and dad sure aren’t doing it. And this shit you’re talking about? This isn’t going to help us. I’m not interested.” 

 

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Loogie said blandly. “I’m not asking, I’m telling you.” 

 

“Telling me what?”

 

“You and your services are mine now.” 

 

Kenny shook his head as the words sank in. “Dude I’m not for fucking sale.”

 

Loogie looked amused. “I didn’t say I was buying anything.” 

 

Kenny stared at Loogie’s face and realized that there was nothing normal about this motherfucker. His calm facade broke for a moment and Kenny saw the real Loogie, and he was straight up, one hundred percent, crazy.

 

“I’m done here.” Kenny moved towards the door. An unmistakable click froze him in place. 

 

Kenny knew what a gun sounded like when it was cocked. He had a brief thought to just let the guy do it. He needed a break after all the shit that was just unloaded on him. But Karen would be home from school soon. And there was no way he was going to let this fucker anywhere near her.

 

“Just listen, dude.” The whine in Kevin’s voice turned Kenny’s stomach.

 

“Shut up,” Kenny growled.

 

“It would be such a shame if anything happened to the pretty little Omega bitch that lives here.” Loogie uncocked the gun and slid it back into the holster at the small of his back. Then he turned to Kevin. “Wouldn’t that be terrible, Kevin?”

 

Kevin stared fixedly at the table. He knew if he looked at Loogie he wouldn’t be able to keep the hatred off his face, and if he looked across the table he would see that same hatred mirrored in his little brother’s eyes.

 

“Kevin?” Loogie’s voice held a warning.

 

“Yeah.” Kevin’s voice was almost too low to be heard. “It would be terrible for something to happen to Karen.”

 

Kenny balled his hands into fists. There was no way that he was going to let this trash get anywhere near her. He would sacrifice everything else first. “All right whatever. I’ll do it.” 

 

“Great. It is settled. We’ll be in touch.” Loogie strode towards the door with his goons and when it closed shut Kenny snapped. 

 

He tried. He did. He tried really hard not to hate Kevin but every single time he proved how much he couldn’t be trusted. It was one thing to fuck up his own life but to let his fuck ups affect the rest of the pack. To even think it was remotely okay to put Karen in danger. 

 

He crossed a line. A big fucking line. 

 

There was an extended silence and Kenny appreciated it. The only sounds were the static of the television and the sputtering hum of the vents. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if Kevin opened his mouth. Kitchen. Just go to the kitchen.

 

Kevin got up from the couch and followed him. 

 

“Hey,” he touched Kenny’s shoulder. Big mistake.

 

“Look I...I’m sorr-” Kenny shrugged him off and shoved Kevin backwards over the dining room chair. Kevin fell into several stacks of their father's eight-track tapes on the stereo table, sending them clattering all over a pile of junk on the floor.

 

“What the fuck Kenny?!” Kevin uprighted himself and grabbed Kenny's shoulder, spinning him to face him.

 

“Save it.” Kenny jabbed his palm hard in the middle of Kevin's bare chest, shoving him right back over the same chair. Kevin sprawled over it and rolled into the pile of eight-tracks and junk again.

 

Kevin gathered himself, jumped up and landed a punch on the side of Kenny's head, sending him into the wall. 

 

While he recovered from the blow, he glared menacingly at his older brother. “Why do you do this? Why would you fucking jeopardize everything for a fix dude?” 

 

Kevin spat at him, “It’s not like that! I’m not trying to fuck up our lives. I was just trying to help. Loogie can get us out of here. He can help Karen-”

 

Kenny studied him. “Bullshit.”

 

“Kenny listen-”

 

“Get out.” He spoke evenly, with a barely controlled quiver in his voice. But the way he was clenching and unclenching his jaw and the way the veins in his temples were bulging were all telltale signs of his anger. 

 

“I’m not leaving. This is my house too.” Kevin straightened, taking advantage of his superior height and looked down at Kenny. “You think you’re better than me huh? Don’t get all Alpha on me. Bro, you’re bringing in scrap change! We’re barely making it! At the rate you’re going, Karen’s gonna have to start shaking her ass at Peppermint Hippo-” 

 

Kenny glared daggers at him, fist reared back to strike, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" He shouted in a rage that made Kevin cringe. At that moment he hated Kevin. He hated him just as much as he hated his deadbeat father and that he somehow managed to wrangle up these ugly feelings inside him. It wasn’t just anger. It was a raw enmity, an unexplainable hurt mixed with it. Fueling it. He knew his check paled in comparison to the one he had dreamed he could provide. He hated that he couldn’t do more. That Karen had to miss out on things teenage girls should be able to do. 

 

The next hit came without warning. Kenny’s knuckle met the other man’s jaw and knocked him back with enough force that caused the ceramic fish plate on the wall, Carol brought back one day high, to clatter to the floor in pieces. 

 

Kevin jerked his head up and a red line of blood trickled from his nose. Then his whole body started shaking with his rage and humiliation. "YOU LITTLE MOTHER FUCKER!" 

 

Karen watched from the front door in horror as they both lunged at each other in the same instant.

 

Kenny and Kevin literally bounced off each other on the first lunge, with Kevin landing a fist in Kenny's gut as they met, but tripping over somebody's clothes and his own feet, falling right back into the junk pile yet again. Kenny had glanced a blow off Kevin's jaw, and stumbled back with his calves against a chair, rowing his arms for balance to remain standing.

 

“No guys! Stop!” Karen pleaded. 

 

It wasn’t her voice as much as her scent that pulled both boys back. A familiar sour smell of distress seeping out in her sweat. Karen. Their baby sister. 

 

Kenny stared at her feeling like he had just been gutted. Kevin glanced guiltily around the room and aimed his red face angrily at the filthy floor. She didn’t need to see this. She had seen enough of it growing up. They all had. Kenny swallowed and looked down. 

 

“No more fighting okay?” She croaked as tears threatened to fall from her eyes. 

 

“We’re fine,” Kenny assured her. He pulled her into a hug and she rubbed her cheek against his. 

 

“Go easy on him Kenny.” She whispered into his ear. 

 

A deep sigh. “Karen…”

 

She gave him a pointed look and he nodded with a small tight smile.

 

She bounded over to Kevin to rub cheeks with him as well. It was a simple gesture used to strengthen a pack bond. It was mainly used by Beta and Omega siblings and it symbolized unity and togetherness. Kenny watched Karen dote on Kevin for a few beats before turning for the door. 

 

He couldn’t remember the last time he reaffirmed his bond with his brother. It was still there. He could feel it, a starved tattered link, held there by obligation more than anything else. Kenny put a cigarette to his lips. He had to work and didn’t want to think anymore about the heaping pile of steaming shit Kevin left for him this time.


	10. The Sunshine Twins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI- Steam scene ahead. Female Alpha x Omega male.

Pip was hot. He thought it might have just been the building he was in but even in the chilly autumn day, he felt like his skin was on fire. He was so focused on the sweat gathering underneath his clothes he barely processed that Butters was there next to him. Last night, they had agreed to meet up after every class if they could.

 

Pip already liked Butters a whole lot and he only had known him for two days. It felt much longer than that. They spent hours upon hours talking about everything and nothing while building their living room into a makeshift nest they both could share once they both decided they would rather not be alone if they had a choice. 

 

It was odd for him to make a connection so fast. He tended to be a loner. Not that he did not want to make connections with others. It just proved to be a bit difficult for him for some reason or another. In the past, people tended to not understand him or take advantage of his gentle nature. The more time he spent with Butters the more his spirits lifted. There was something in the way he smiled, a warmth, a sense of genuineness that Pip just could not help but be drawn to. 

 

Butters was speaking excitedly to him now but Pip was so engrossed in his own thoughts he did not even catch what Butters was talking about. Butters was not undeterred by his lack of response though. His eyes lit up every time he glanced at Pip as if he was the most important person in the world rather than the odd foreign exchange student others deemed him to be.

 

“Hm?” Pip cocked his head in guilty confusion at the question he missed. He usually was a very good listener but his head felt so foggy today. 

 

“Is Pip a common name in the UK?” Butters repeated, slipping in step with Pip, hands in his light blue jacket. 

 

“No, I don’t think so. My real name is Phillip. When I was a young lad I could barely say my full name. All I could get out was Pip and everyone took a liking to it I suppose.” Pip supplied and swallowed tightly as if he was fighting nausea. 

 

“Do you like it?” Butters asked, watching Pip’s face as they moved toward the dining hall.

 

Pip shook his head. “Truthfully no. I much rather prefer Phillip.” 

 

A glimmer of understanding lit up in Butters’ eyes. “Okay cool! My first name is Leopold.”  
“Why do you go by Butters then?” Pip pulled at the collar of his shirt desperate for some relief. 

 

Butters shrugged as he tried to explain. “I don’t know. My parents used to call me little buddy and then Butters came right after. I guess it’s also just easier to say?”

 

“Well, I am rather fond of your real name,” Pip said with a reassuring smile. 

 

“Oh, gee. Well, I like your name a whole lot too!”

 

“Do you mind if I call you Leo instead?” Pip asked, glancing over at him. 

 

“Sure!” Butters laughed, his grin infectious. They walked into the loud, boisterous dining hall. Tables of varying size allowed for groups to sit together and mingle or for a single quick bite over an assignment for class. Different stations were set up throughout the large space offering various types of cuisine. 

 

Pip tried to follow alongside Butters in the bolstering crowd of hungry students but still felt so hot and dizzy. He placed his hand against a wall to steady himself. 

 

“Everything alright?” Butters stepped back, looking over his new friend cautiously. 

 

Pip blinked, rubbing the back of his hand across his brow. “I’m not sure myself actually.” 

 

The room spun suddenly in lurching half-circles and his legs lost the ability to function as he tumbled. 

 

“Easy, I’ve got you,” Butters was in front of him, holding him up. Pip’s fingers dug into the fabric of Butter’s turquoise jacket, his scent steadying the world around him. 

 

Butters quickly pulled him into the red bathroom door marked with omega in bold white letters. The door closed and sealed behind them. The bathroom itself gave off a nice calm and woodsy atmosphere. Dark wooden stalls, granite countertops with glistening white ceramic sinks, and a large mirror eating into the ceiling. Toiletries and tools of all sorts were stocked and accessible in whisker baskets along a chocolate wooden table pushed against the wall across from the sinks. 

 

Pip went to turn on the water at one of the shiny sinks when the room jolted around him again. He gripped the counter tight and whimpered in agony. 

 

Butters rested his hand on his forehead. It was damp with a sheen of sweat and burning under his fingers. Pip glanced at himself in the large mirror. His face was flushed and damp blonde strands clung to his head. 

 

“Maybe it's just a fever?” Butters suggested, patting at Pip’s face with a damp paper towel. 

 

And that’s when he felt it. Pip shook his head, licking his lips as the telltale wet and sticky trail slipped down his inner thigh. Blue eyes widened in shock and Pip bit his bottom lip in fret. 

 

“Oh dear. I’m afraid my heat might have come early.” He announced, another wave of dizzy nausea forcing him to grip the nearest surface with renewed earnest. Normally, Pip was quite content with his lot in life, but there were times such as this one where his own biochemistry put him in quite a pickle. 

 

“No problem!” Butters replied. “We can go get an emergency heat suppressant shot-”

 

Pip shook his head again. “No, it won’t work. I need the real thing this time around.”

 

Pip just turned nineteen and heats worked a bit differently now for him. He couldn’t bear all of his heats alone anymore. After an Omega’s eighteenth birthday, sometimes twentieth for a few blokes, they need assistance during their heat cycle. 

 

Not all of them, of course. Pip was able to get through six by himself with no serious problems but after that limit, it could lead to quite a dire situation. He needed a partner for this cycle or he could risk going into a red heat. It was a vicious experience that did not relent and often resulted in the Omega’s death. It was very rare in current times for something dreadful like that to happen though. Resources such as clinics and rent companies became popular in the Omega community to account for the inconvenience. Not all of which is legal in every place, however. 

 

“What oh, Jesus!” Butters cried. “We have to get you to the clinic.”

 

“Have you gone mad?” Pip asked, shaking his head and steadying himself on the bathroom sink counter. “There are Alphas out there.”

 

Both silently looked towards the sealed bathroom door. There was no way of hiding the smell of an Omega in heat. Alphas’ noses were almost just as sensitive to chemical scents as Omegas. They could maybe fool a Beta but an Alpha would know. 

 

Butters worried his lip. “I’m sure they won’t try nothing in broad daylight.” 

 

“Yeah?” Pip said, at last, pulling a face. He’s not so sure he believed Butters but eventually nodded anyway. 

 

“Don’t worry. I got ya, buddy.” Butters grabbed one of the black collars stacked neatly on the sink table and slid it around Pip’s neck. “Better safe than sorry.” 

 

The cool heavy metal around his neck was a cocoon of fog that sent his instincts into a state of disarray as soon as it clicked into place. It did little to help with the disorienting lurches and turns he was experiencing while his neurons screamed to figure out what the offending thing on his neck was. 

 

“Hold on a second.” Butters then tore off his own light blue jacket to wrap around Pip’s soaked pants hoping to mask the scent there some. The extra layer of clothing only added to his dismay that he was unable to find relief from the sweltering steam room underneath his clothes. He didn’t know if the jacket would help with the smell that had taken over the bathroom either. Thank goodness they were alone.

 

Butters contemplated his next plan of action before he crouched down and gestured for Pip to hop up. Pip did so but instantly regretted it when he felt more slick trickle down his thighs. He was glad he decided to wear trousers today over his shorts. 

 

His face was hot with embarrassment now. “I must insist you put me down. I’ll make an awful mess of your clothes-”

 

“Shh mister! This isn’t about me. It's about helping you.” Butters stood up and tested his balance a few times. 

 

Once confident in his stride, Butters led Pip out of the bathroom. It was blessedly deserted around the foyer to the bathrooms which both Omegas were internally grateful for. Pip’s head was spinning, stomach tight with anxiety as they headed to the exit. They made it out of the dining hall without any incident. Probably saved by the mix of aromas floating in the air.

 

The light from the sun was blinding and it did little to help with his orientation. He was now appreciative of Butters’ steady legs amongst the bustling throng of people outside of the dining hall. Butters took a few tentative steps, looking each way as they moved farther away from the building. No one seemed to be paying them any mind and Pip felt a glimmer of hope that they’d reach their destination just fine. He realized very quickly that was an unlikely option.

 

An Alpha suddenly stopped and looked right at them and Pip had forgotten how to breathe. He felt his pulse quicken. He knew that his cheeks were flushed; he could feel the heat beneath his skin. There was no way they were going to hide it.

 

The Alpha stepped closer and inhaled. “You two look like you need some help.” The smile that split his face was far too wide and too white. He grinned like a shark scenting prey. 

 

“Oh, that’s okay. My friend just has a fever is all.” Butters looked up at him, squinting a little against the sunlight. 

 

“What’s going on?” Another person moved towards them, curiosity painting her features. She was an Alpha too. Pip breathed in deeply. No mistaking it. Pip’s shoulders were shaking now and he squirmed under the curious stares.

 

“Uh, nothing. Please leave us alone!” Butters sidestepped around the towering figures before hightailing it down a cobbled path towards the Omega Clinic. 

 

“Hey! Wait!” 

 

Pip cautiously peeked over his shoulder. There was a growing number of people following behind them. More than he could possibly count were looking at them with an unwavering and unabashed focus that was quite unsettling. They followed them like a multi-headed beast that had a one track mind, feeding off the impulses of those around them to guide them to the ultimate prize: an unmated Omega in heat. 

 

Pip met eyes with one of the crowd members and watched as they pushed their pelvis forward in a lewd gesture. Pip didn’t think he could feel any hotter than he already was but he was literally on fire now. He was glad Butters was holding on tight to his legs because he was pretty sure his whole body had turned to jelly.

 

He wondered if Butters were to trip what would they do to him? Have their way with him in the middle of campus until this dreaded heat dissipated? It didn’t seem like a terrible idea at the moment really. After all, they did just want to help. 

 

Pip squeezed his eyes shut, shoved his face into the crevice of Butters’ neck and cursed himself. He was panting aching breaths into the soft flesh and he had to stop himself from licking all over his roommate’s neck. The urge to touch, rub, lick, and suck was overwhelming. 

 

“Leo please hurry.” He mumbled into his skin, feeling him shiver from his breath. 

 

While he fought with his confusing desires, more and more people had gathered from every direction offering their assistance or complimenting them to the point Butters could barely keep on track to the clinic. They were almost there too. The glass twinkled in the sunlight acting as a beacon of sanctuary from the erupting disorder. 

 

Growling and shoving ensued around them, even a few punches landed. Someone toppled into Butters almost knocking him and Pip to the ground. His stumbling only seemed to set more people off as they turned their attention to the culprit that caused it. 

 

Butters stopped and huffed in frustration. “Okay hey! Excuse me! Hey fellas! I’ve had about enough of this! Now my friend is sick you jerks and I’m taking him to the clinic and that’s final!” 

 

His holler reverberated in Pip’s ears like a sudden clap of thunder and the shock of it seemed to momentarily freeze the people within close proximity of the two Omegas. It did little to stop the overall chaos that transpired on the grassy green field of the quad but somehow it was enough for Butters to swivel and weave his way to the end of the walkway. 

 

Miraculously, the building was in front of them, all shining glass and brick. Butters reached the door and pulled it open. He staggered into the building, blinking against the dim light. The door closed behind them muting the soundtrack of shouting, cursing and screaming they managed to escape. 

 

The clinic was clean and quiet. It smelled of chemicals despite the variety of flowers placed strategically throughout the lobby. 

 

Butters helped get Pip back onto his feet. He was hot to touch and arousal poured off of him in waves drowning out the faint chemical smell with something much more potent. His slick had managed to darken a part of Butters’ jacket that was still wrapped around his waist.

 

There was a Beta leaning against the long slick desk behind reinforced glass that stretched up to the ceiling. She looked kind and comforting, the way movie moms do in warm fuzzy flashback scenes. 

 

“Hello dears, how can I-” The Beta stopped abruptly when she caught sight of the two blondes. She took in the flushed skin, soft moans, and dazed eyes before sitting up in shock.

 

“Did you forget about your heat?” She glanced at the door and quickly pushed a button on the desk. A resounding automatic lock clicked into place. 

 

“No...I..I mm...think it might have come early? I’m not due until next week.” Pip panted out. He felt like he was swimming or floating. He wanted to take all his clothes off but resisted, licking his dry lips and trying not to think about how good it felt. 

 

“I see. Being around so many alphas must of set it off. New environments always make our bodies go out of whack. Your name sweetheart?” She asked. 

 

“Phillip Pirrup.” He turned to face Butters leaning into his side. He felt comfy and soft. Just like the nest they built. Why weren’t they at the nest again?

 

He attempted to ask that very question but instead found himself grinding into Butters’ hip. 

 

Butters looked down. “Oh, hey there little buddy.” He said playfully.

 

Pip abruptly ceased the movement and he was plagued with a vague feeling akin to guilt. He had no intentions of scaring off the only friend he managed to make since he landed here four days ago.

 

“I’m so sorry.” Pip moaned pitifully plopping his forehead onto his roommate’s shoulder.

 

“Aw that’s okay,” Butters said, rubbing his back in sympathy. 

 

The Beta behind the counter looked between the two of them. “And Mr. Pirrup is this your partner or-”

“My friend. One of the best friends I’ve ever had actually.” Pip corrected her, happy that he had someone delightfully soft and cozy to nestle against. “I like him. He’s so nice to me.”

Then he turned to Butters directly to repeat, “I like you, you’re nice to me.” 

Butters giggled. “I like you too.” 

She hummed in understanding. It wasn’t an odd sight to see Omegas touching each other. Even as friends. Many, but not all, enjoyed the closeness of other Omegas. They were primed to smell calm and comforting to each other. Especially during their heats. 

“And are you here for suppressants or a room?”

“Room.” Pip was finding it harder to formulate anything more than a few simple words now. All of his focus had shifted to how troublesome the clothes he had on were.  
She nodded as she typed away on her computer. “Do you take any form of contraceptives?” 

“The pill.” She documented that as well before looking back up at them.

“Will your friend be joining you today Mr. Pirrup?”

 

“I can leave if you want-” Butters started to offer. 

 

Pip shook his head vehemently, fighting back a moan. 

 

“Oh god, please don’t,” Pip said, his knees failing as he clutched onto Butter’s sleeve. He couldn’t do these things by himself again. The workers are attentive and very careful but it still felt cold and forced. He needed someone he could trust with him and Butters was already so friendly to him.

 

“Well okay.” Butters shrugged, perfectly fine with helping his new buddy out. 

 

She handed him some papers through a slot in the glass. “Here is a form to just verify that you are a consenting party here.” Pip scribbled his signature in the necessary areas.

 

“Perfect.” A loud thud caught their attention. 

 

Butters’ blue eyes widened as he turned. “Woah.”

 

There was a crowd outside. Bodies were pressed up against the windowed entrance to the clinic. Pushing, pulling, clawing at the windows, and at each other to get inside.

 

The receptionist followed their gaze and swatted her hand at the spectacle.“No need to worry. We have followed protocol. No unwanted guests will be joining us today. Please follow me.” She appeared from behind the counter and was motioning to the heavy gray door that led out of the waiting area.

 

Butters was still looking out of the glass doors, feeling increasingly nervous. His knuckles knocked together a few times and he glanced over at his roommate. Pip was swaying on the balls of his feet. He seemed to be mesmerized by the sight of the crowd. Butters gripped his hand tight as they followed the receptionist further into the clinic. A distant siren began somewhere in the background that barely could be heard the deeper into the building they went.

 

The Beta brought them to a room, covered edge to edge with cushions, pillows, and blankets. Scentless. No, that wouldn’t do.

 

Pip dropped down to his knees unable to remain standing on his shaky legs for a moment longer. The floor was soft and he snatched a nearby pillow to rub his cheek against. 

 

“First and foremost I would just like to say that all of our employees are vetted. They have gone through rigorous training and are well experienced in aiding all types of Omegas through their heats. These are the available Alphas or Betas. Please note that some are on site but others are on call so wait times may vary.” She handed a tablet to Butters as she explained since Pip was preoccupied.

 

“We hope you enjoy your stay with us.” And with that, she strode out of the room closing the door behind her.

 

Butters moved to the closest wall, leaning against it and sliding down until he hit the soft plush floor as he swiped at the tablet in his hands. 

 

Pip’s brows furrowed in confusion, head cocked to the side. He wasn’t sure why Butters wasn’t helping him scent. Perhaps he was tired. He did carry him quite a long way. 

 

“Hey Phillip,” Butters glanced up to find his roommate shirtless and twisted up in the sheets that surrounded the room. “Do you have a type?”

 

“Not really.” He answered easily, rolling his shoulders into a shrug as he offered a pillow to Butters and looked expectantly at him. 

 

Butters took the soft plush item before putting it to his neck and rubbing it against his scent gland there. Pip smiled in delight, his eyes a little hazy from the heat blossoming from his body. He couldn’t have asked for a better roommate. He could definitely see him being apart of his pack. A real pack. One built off trust and love. Like the ones, he used to dream about as a boy. 

 

“Well how about Jimmy? He’s a trans Beta. He presented as Omega. He’ll understand us at least.” Butters turned the tablet over to show Pip. Jimmy was nice looking. Messy brown hair, a crooked grin, well-defined arms, and a half-lidded hazel gaze.

 

“He does look nice.” Pip agreed. He knew a couple of trans Betas in his hometown. Pocket was one. Sometimes after presentation people don’t feel like they belong to their biological caste. It was a difficult road to transition but not impossible with the right surgeries to remove the glands. The same alpha hormones put in suppressants are used for the transition process and scent fragrances helped with correcting to the desired presentation. 

 

“Aw phooey.” Butters’ shoulders sagged. “He’s on call right now. Twenty-minute wait.”

 

There was no way Pip could wait that long. He was trembling wildly now, completely nude and letting out soft moans every time his skin came into contact with different pieces of fabric. 

 

Butters resumed scrolling through the online profiles. “Charlotte is pretty cute. What do you think?” He turned the screen to Pip again. 

 

Pip’s head popped up from the sheets and his gaze fell onto the pixelated screen. Female Alphas could be scary. A lot more scary than male Alphas actually. His sister always told him they were. She screamed and threw things at him for hours when she caught him admiring Estella from afar. She hated Alphas and Omegas alike. Thought Omegas were perverse and filthy. Whenever the mood struck her she would dump murky soap water onto his head. Usually when he was curled up and immersed in a rather interesting book. She always told him he was going to be a filthy twat no matter how much he scrubbed himself. His sister really did have a bleak outlook on life. 

 

“Wow.” Pip bit his lip. Charlotte didn’t look scary. Quite the opposite in fact. He heard from Pocket how thorough female Alphas were. Maybe it wouldn’t feel as empty as the last session he went to in London. He was a shaking mess back then and the Beta did nothing to comfort or make him feel less like another needy omega face on his list to placate. 

 

He was nodding before he could even process the movement. 

 

Butters grinned. “Alrighty then!” 

-

Charlotte was a handsome looking woman in her early twenties who wore a magenta silk wrap around her sharp hip bones. Her sleek soft brown hair was bluntly cut short and held out of her face with a matching magenta barrette. 

 

She stood in the doorway with her shoulders taut and surveyed the room with cool brown eyes. Her musky smell tickled Pip’s nose and it took everything to not turn and spread his legs in open invitation. 

 

Butters and Pip tried hard not to stare at her bare breasts. They were small, perky, and firm. Alpha women were not known to cover their chests like Beta and Omega females. Much to his sister’s chagrin. She never was a fan of the elaborate displays of undress Alphas paraded about in. She thought it was distracting. Deviant even. 

 

Charlotte would have had his sister fuming and spatting. Her exposed skin was smooth and glistened with oil. Pip blinked when she merely stood there. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from her as an Alpha but she was very calm and composed. A complete juxtaposition of what he witnessed outside on the quad. 

 

“Hello,” she greeted in a husky, accented voice.

 

“You sure are pretty.” Butters blurted out in awe from his spot next to Pip. 

 

“Thank you. You both are pretty too,” she said in a low good-humored voice. “My name is Charlotte. I am to assist you with your heat today.”

 

Pip forced his eyes back to hers and felt a little heat rise to his cheeks at the compliment. 

 

“Uh...hi,” he eventually said, blushing more when the words come out more of a squeak than the casual greeting he was hoping for. 

 

“Is this your first time Phillip?” Charlotte asked.

 

“Mm no. Second.” He said breathlessly as she walked closer with practiced steps into the space looking intently at Pip’s every reaction. 

 

When she covered the distance between them, she carefully sank onto one of the soft plush pillows in front of him. There was nothing but a few inches separating Pip from the Alpha now. 

 

She cupped his face in her hands. “Such lovely eyes,” she enthused. Pip breathed in shakily at the newfound closeness and with his hazy blue gaze noticed her own were dark brown with flecks of green and gold. He couldn’t get his mouth to work with her this close. The only exception being the little whimper that left him, at the loss of contact, when she released him. 

 

“Since its only your second time how about we start with something slow and easy? A nice back rub maybe? Or body rub if you like?” Charlotte held up a small bottle of oil. Pip nodded his consent, a brew of anticipation, need, and anxiety mixing in his belly.

 

“Phillip. Look at me.” When Pip managed to focus on Charlotte, more or less, blue eyes dazed and half-lidded, she went on, “Anything you don’t want you tell me, okay? You are in full control here.” Charlotte paused and gave him a direct look.

 

“Yes...yes, I know,” Pip said before turning onto his front and pushing his face into a soft plush blanket infused with his own scent as well as his roommate’s to help ground him a little. 

 

Her long hands were firm and gentle on his legs, back, and neck. She smoothed the sun oil into his skin in slow, deliberate circles. She took her time with him all while answering and asking more questions in that soothing voice. 

 

“Are you a student here?” Butters shifted forward, taking the whole scene in with a slight blush on his own cheeks. 

 

“Third-year exchange student.” Charlotte smiled at Butters as she stroked Pip’s skinny arms and down his bare back. “I am from Canada originally.” 

 

“Oh cool! Phillip is from the UK. We’re both first years!” Butters enthused. 

 

“How do you guys like it?” 

 

“I love it so far. There’s so much to do here.” And as if needing something to with his hands, he reached to pet Pip’s long downy strands in encouragement.

 

Pip hummed in agreement. Charlotte’s hands felt good on his body and he closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on the steady swirling touch of her fingers and palms on his bare skin. 

 

"Does that feel good?"

 

"Yeah." Pip moaned, squirming from the aching erection between his legs. 

 

She oiled him carefully between his legs and he parted his thighs automatically as she stroked the downy inner flanks with her slippery hands. Pip jumped a bit and she smiled at how keyed up he was already. 

 

She leaned in to kiss Pip’s shoulder and whisper, “You want to turn over, sweetheart?”

 

A pleased hum and a languid stretch brought Pip onto his back, still smiling sweetly in content.

 

"You are lovely Phillip," she said in a voice that was little more than a breathy whisper.

 

He ended up with his head in between Butters legs, resting on his thigh. Butters played with his hair while they both openly watched her, appreciating the rise and fall of her sharp curves as she stroked the contours of Pip’s naked body. Strong, warm fingers curled around his calves and rubbed smoothly up and down his shins to his ankles and feet. He was half-hard and conscious of it as she began to oil his balls, cupping them in her left hand and stroking them carefully with the right until they were hot and slippery and he was leaking a dribble of semen from his stiffening tool. He quivered as she rubbed her hands down her own thighs to get rid of the excess sun oil, then wrapped her fingers around his cock and slowly pulled on it.

 

“Oh..oh hell…” Pip groaned, head falling back onto Butters’ thigh, eyes squeezed shut as fingers began to stroke his shaft.

 

She worked her way to the throbbing head, squeezing him gently, then smoothed her hand back down his shaft, manicured fingers curled tight around it, easing back his foreskin so that the glans was exposed to her warm breath. He moaned quietly, biting his lower lip again as she rose on her knees and bent her mouth to the head of his cock.

 

Pip began to huff rapidly as she licked and sucked on the head of his sex, swirling her tongue around it and teasing the oozing eyelet with the tip.

 

This was already infinitely better than his first time in London when he was a petrified lad. No, there was nothing awkward or detached about this. Butters and Charlotte were lightly chatting and chuckling above him every now and again. Something he was beyond the ability to fully participate in. Not with the way Charlotte was touching him in all the right places like she studied a map of his body beforehand. He actually felt a soft cocooning security held between both Butters and Charlotte. His head lolled in Butters’ lap and his nose brushed against the hard-to-miss erection trapped in his pants. Butters was uncharacteristically quiet now, his curious eyes glued to the way Charlotte thoroughly handled Pip’s body. 

 

Charlotte lifted her head from Pip, replacing mouth with hand so she could still stroke up and down that finely veined length. “Would you like to top or bottom?”

 

“Bottom.” He gasped, his chest expanded with each of his deep breaths and his little moans. His inner thighs and the sheet below him were wet with slick. 

 

“Like this?” She asked, rubbing circles into his hips and pressing up close to him. She smiled and rubbed her erection between Pip’s thighs as she pinched and pulled on the sensitive little buds on his chest.

 

His head bobbed up and down as if on a string, little pleading whimpers the only sound he was able to make at this point. His hips immediately rocked forward seeking out what he was desperately craving for. 

 

She slowly pushed her way in. His trembling legs wrapped around her thighs as she rocked into him. 

 

Within minutes he shook, his sweet moans turned to desperate sounds and he gripped the sheets below him tight. Butters caressed his arms and shoulders in silent support. His muscles had turned to jello and his brain went to mush. Everything was gone, nothing but the enormous pleasure of the moment, no thoughts intruding, only the throbbing need of his body and his desire to feel the pleasure of the body filling him. 

 

Charlotte rolled her hips slowly as she buried herself between Pip’s cheeks over and over. Pip felt the metal collar around his neck was absolutely suffocating and preventing a crucial thing from happening. He reached for it with one of his hands but Charlotte interceded and placed it on her chest instead. She twisted her hips just right finding that certain spot that would effectively distract Pip. It worked. He gasped and whimpered as his body jolted after every repeated thrust against that glorious spot. 

 

Charlotte’s lips had been parted to say something but now the words evaporated in a strangled cry. The way Pip was squeezing around her while making those beautiful sounds was too much for even her. Charlotte’s head fell back, lean-muscled body sculpturally beautiful in this moment of agonized pleasure as Pip clamped tight around her as if promising he would never let go. She cursed in French and Pip was far too gone to care. One more hard thrust, she buried herself to the base, knot included and held on as the climax rocketed from her. 

 

Pip’s reaction was instant and explosive, his body arching into the many sensations. His head flung back onto Butter’s lap and his ecstatic cries bounced off the walls of the room as he decorated his chest. He shuddered as little aftershocks ran up and down his spine. 

 

She pumped every last bit of herself into Pip’s willing body until she couldn’t move anymore and collapsed on top of him in a sweaty panting heap knotted together. Charlotte leaned in and place a lingering kiss on his forehead before she eased them onto their sides into a more comfortable position.

 

“You should drink something. You will be dehydrated if you don’t.” Charlotte counseled gently once she was able to slowly pull away.

 

Pip mumbled something unintelligible, sleepy, but it did not sound argumentative. Charlotte was glad for this. In her experience, certain Omegas were much more clingy and refused for her to leave or they would downright refuse any form of nutrients which could be dangerous especially if they were high level. Pip was a pleasant client and it didn’t seem she’d have to worry about any form of incidental bonding this time around. 

 

“Please do alert us if his heat spikes back up.” She directed this to Butters. She picked up her wrap from the floor and worked it around herself with expert hands. 

 

“Will do!” Butters nuzzled the curve of Pip's skull through his silky soft hair, loving the clean, warm smell of his naked body.

 

“Um, thanks for all your help. You were really amazing.” Butters said to Charlotte as she began to leave, hands still playing with a dozing Pip’s hair. 

 

"You are such a sweetheart," Charlotte purred, ruffling his hair as she rose and strolled through the door to the nearest shower room. Butters watched her go, appreciating the curves of her firm ass and the long, slim, shapely lines of her legs.


	11. The Matrimony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A marriage built on friendship will last a lifetime.

Craig and Clyde were in Jimmy’s and Token’s room. It seemed like a ritual now to just skip their door and go straight to their place. They had an open door policy. It was their attempt to get to know more of the students on the floor. The fact that Token owned both an Xbox One and PlayStation 4 helped. 

 

Craig and Clyde were both stationed in the two pull-out chairs playing Call of Duty. Too loud rap music was playing from Jimmy’s computer, which was plugged into Token’s surround sound speakers. 

 

Token was already getting used to the frequent stream of people that filtered in and out of his dorm space. He liked it even. 

 

“Hey dude,” Jimmy greeted without looking up from his laptop computer. He probably was still looking into any potential comedy gigs he could set up in the area. From what Token gathered from the few conversations they had, Jimmy had boundless enthusiasm for it and overall seemed to have a go-getter personality to match the passion. Token could respect that. 

 

They were actually similar in that aspect. Token already had plans in place to make a name for himself here on campus. His dad spent the summer trying to corral him into pre-law but Token’s heart was in healthcare policy. It was a coincidental mix between both of his parents' professions. Probably their late night discussions over wine influenced him to some degree. He just knew he wanted to improve the quality of life of every living person on a global scale by targeting how healthcare was administered. And South Park offered him a full ride and had a decent dual public health program with the University of Denver. 

 

“A-A-A-Anyone up from grabbing food?” Jimmy asked from his spot on the bed. He closed his computer.

 

“I’m up for it,” Token said, throwing his bag into his desk chair. 

 

“Yeah me too,” said Craig. His crosshairs hovered over Clyde’s character on the screen and he rained down a hailstorm of bullets. 

 

“Fuck you, man!” Clyde whined, throwing his controller down in fury as he waited to respawn. 

 

“I have a lab at two so we should go pretty soon,” Jimmy said reaching for his crutches. 

 

“I’m free all day, bitches.” Clyde chimed in as he picked up his controller and started to move his character around again.

 

“You both are done with classes?” Token asked in disbelief. He only knew about one class on their schedule today because he saw Clyde this morning groaning something unintelligible to a much more coherent and fully dressed Craig before stumbling to the community showers, scratching at his backside, right when Token was heading towards the elevators. 

 

“You’re done.” Craig pointed out, not glancing up once from the large flat-screen television plastered against one of their four walls. Yeah, that was because Token had three back to back classes today since eight this morning. 

 

“They never take attendance on the first day,” Clyde said with a wide grin aimed in Token’s direction. “This whole week is a freebie with people dropping and adding classes.”

 

Craig’s crosshairs lit up red again on the screen and Clyde’s character fell to the ground with a quick headshot.

 

“Dude, what the fuck!” Clyde exasperated slamming his controller down again. “All right, let's get some grub. I’m starving.”

 

“Wait,” Craig said. He shot a newly respawned Clyde for the third time before ending the game looking pleased with himself.

 

“You are such an ass!” Clyde pouted, trying to send his best nasty glare over to Craig but failing miserably in the wake of that cocky half-smirk. 

 

He looked back at Jimmy and Token pout and all. “I’m ready to start drinking.”

 

“Me too,” Jimmy said with a laugh, moving towards the doorway after grabbing his keys and wallet from his dresser. “What are we doing tonight?”

 

“There’s a drunk party bus going along the bar strip that seemed pretty cool.” Token replied, glancing down at the line of posts from their classmates on his phone.“And a few parties. Kickbacks too.” 

 

“Drunk bus!” Clyde hollered his approval and hopped out of the room.

 

Once they had a semblance of a plan laid out for the night they headed outside of the New Stone dorms. The sunlight darted through the trees overhead, casting shadows on the grass. A nice breeze swept over their faces and Token decided it was a pretty comfortable day. Not too hot or cold. It wasn’t as busy by the dorms at this time of day. Everyone was at the heart of campus taking classes or eating. They started down the winding path that led to the dining hall. 

 

“I think we should-” Token’s voice trailed off, he noticed a shift in the atmosphere. A faint but powerful smell hit Token’s nose stopping him dead in his tracks. Craig halted too; a perplexed expression replacing his usual stoic demeanor. 

 

Jimmy and Clyde carry on walking. They must not smell anything. Betas never do. They did, however, pause when they noticed Craig and Token were not with them. 

 

Token looked to Craig who was in a similar state as him. His pupils were dilated and he felt his cock grow hard as the aroma twirled around him, mixing with the soft breeze. 

 

“Are you guys okay?” Clyde looked around and crinkled his face in confused curiosity. “What is it?”

 

They were both frozen, backs ramrod straight and staring intently in the same direction. It was a new smell, for Token at least, that confused his nose to the point where he didn’t know if he wanted to sneeze or inhale deeper. Everything in his body was telling him to follow it. To help. To protect. 

 

Protect what?

 

And just like that, it clicked. He saw them in his three classes this morning. Saw them on his way back to his dorm. A passing pleasing aroma. “Omega.” But nothing like this. To this magnitude. 

 

A small growl forced its way out of Token’s throat. Craig growled back at him. It was as if they instinctively knew how to communicate through grunts and growls now. Which Token didn’t. But for some reason, he could tell that Craig was reaffirming his earlier statement that: yes, he did indeed smell an Omega in heat in that direction. And that’s what made this all the more bizarre. 

 

Then a choir of jingles and sirens broke through the air. 

 

TEXT ALERT: Stay indoors! Find the nearest building and stay indoors! More info @spu.edu/alerts

 

An automated message cut through some unknown speakers placed throughout campus grounds and repeated, “Warning! Warning! An emergency condition exists. Seek safe shelter!” over and over again in tandem with the deafening sirens. 

 

“What the hell?” Clyde shouted over the noise. Token and Craig were still staring in the same direction and stiff as a board. 

 

Just as quickly as it hit him, it had left. Token felt like a giant hand had finally unclenched and let his tense body loose. He let out a long a breath, looking down at the ground as he awkwardly shifted the problem that had grown in his pants. He didn’t say anything for a while still trying to figure out what the fuck just hijacked his mind like that. There was no possible way a smell not even remotely within his vicinity could have that type of effect on him. Through his peripheral, he could see Craig was in a similar state of internal turmoil. 

 

Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. Maybe he was letting the way his stomach was twisting up dictate his thinking but in that instance, he understood why over the years there was a strong push to contain and isolate whatever could reduce him to a pile of instincts. It didn’t condone the history of genocides or the systematic oppression but it all made sense now. The motives behind the policies and wars. All driven by the fear of the maddening uncontrollable feelings he just got whipped with. All caused by just a smell. It was unsettling.

 

“Earth to Craig and Token!” Clyde tossed a pleading look to the only other person who was not spaced out at the moment, “Jimmy a little help here?”

 

“G-g-giv-give them a minute.” Jimmy had an unreadable expression on his face but otherwise did not seem as phased as Clyde. Instead, he walked to the nearest bench before plopping down to investigate his own phone.

 

“Damn it!” he cursed and closed his eyes in silent agony as if he had just found out about the death of a loved one. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Clyde asked, desperate for some information. 

 

“I miss-miss- I missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime!” He groaned, putting his head in his hands.

 

“Two omegas in heat. They were on my profile for five minutes!” That seemed to snap the Alphas of the group out of their trance and down into their respective phones. 

 

“Omegas? Like plural? How do you know all this?” Token questioned, unable to find anything substantial on any social media site. It was all just a bunch of rehashed confusion and complaints. 

 

“I work for the Omega clinic or the OC as I like to call it,” Jimmy said lightly. “T-T-Tw-Two Omegas checked in today. Together.” 

 

“How’d you get that gig?” Craig asked next, looking up from his own phone. 

 

“Volunteering in high school,” Jimmy said without any further explanation as he hoisted himself back up. “The nearest food place away from this mess is about fif-fifteen minutes into town.”

 

Clearly, none of them had any intentions of going back inside to inhale fresh paint fumes and dust for lunch. 

 

“So let me get this straight. You get paid to…” 

 

“Fuck.” Jimmy supplied easily, wiggling his eyebrows. 

 

“Thanks,” Token grinned in disbelief, shook his head as he continued to process. 

 

“It pays well too,” Jimmy told him. 

 

“Can I do it?” Clyde jumped in. 

 

“No offense Clyde but an Omega would eat you alive,” Token said bluntly. 

 

“You know you might be right. There’s one in my bio class. Wouldn’t be surprised if he eats Beta and Alpha balls for breakfast the way he was foaming at the mouth this morning.” Clyde shuddered. 

 

“They have the sweetest asses f-f-fellas.” Jimmy grinned. 

 

“Wow, must be nice,” Craig told him, still engrossed in his phone. 

 

“Do you even have any experience?” Token directed at Clyde, who was still trying to defend his honor in bed.

 

“I so do!” Clyde said, offended. “What about all of you huh?”

 

“Yeah a few times,” Token said with a nod, figuring he might as well share since he initiated the new conversation topic. 

 

“First time was a wreck though. I had to explain Alpha biology to a Beta who thought Alpha knots had an on-demand feature.” No, that apparently was reserved for Omegas only when they were deep in the throes of their heat. Which made perfect logical sense to Token. 

 

However, this tidbit of information was not appreciated by his partner at the time who apparently needed a knotting experience they could brag about to their friends. He didn’t get why they were upset over something that was beyond both of their control anyway. Token still didn’t even know what his knot looked like. 

 

“Uh-oh, somebody wasn’t paying attention in biology class.” Clyde quipped, before turning to his roommate. “Craig? I know you’re a master of the bedroom. Betas and Alphas must have thrown themselves at you all the time right?” 

 

Craig gave Clyde a blank look before casually muttering, “Fuck off.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait! You’re a virgin?” Clyde asked running in front of Craig to meet his eyes again and raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

 

Craig didn’t reply, except to flip Clyde off, and then Clyde started giggling.

 

“No way! Cool, tall, and handsome here.” Clyde gasped, eyes wide with shocked giddiness. 

 

“It’s not our business if he is or not.” Token shrugged. “Unless you’re trying to get into his pants.”

 

“I mean I wouldn't mind. Have you seen him?” Clyde continued, outlining Craig’s features like a model selling a convertible at a car show. “Jawline for days dude.”

 

Craig swatted his hands away. 

 

“And what about you Clyde?” Jimmy asked, amused by his antics. 

 

“Lost the good ol’ V-card to Jenny Simmons. Senior year. Uh-mazing.” Clyde said with a slow grin. 

 

Then the smile melted off of his face. “She got real controlling afterwards though.”

 

“I had to text her every fifteen minutes to answer the three Ws.” He stuck up three fingers. “Where, what, and who.”

 

“Why didn’t you just block her number and move on?” Token asked, looking down at the trail they were on every now and again to make sure he didn’t step on anything unsavory. 

 

“She knew where I lived dude!” Clyde waved his arms frantically. “There was no ditching her.”

 

He hung back his head and happily sighed. “So happy to be out of the DMV. She couldn't follow me here. Not with a full-ride to George Washington.” 

 

“Uh huh,” Token said, sharing a look with Craig. 

 

“But why fret over the past. I’m a free Beta with a cool ass for a roommate ready to take over South Park with our charming good looks.” Clyde was immediately in Craig’s personal space again, throwing his arm around Craig in triumph.“And it’s going to be great!”

 

It was an awkward arm hug with their differing heights plus the walking they were doing and it almost tripped Craig up on the cobblestone path. He maneuvered himself out of the hold and glared at his roommate. 

 

“I fucking swear-” Craig grumbled halfheartedly, quickly regaining his composure. 

 

They catch an Uber once they reach the end of campus to a strip of restaurants. Jimmy had a lot to say about ride-sharing services. Something along the lines of how “They lack finesse.” He brightened up considerably though in the restaurant when he got an email about classes being cancelled for the remainder of the day due to the whole Omegas in heat fiasco. 

 

They eat at an everyday kind of sports bar. Skeeter’s. It was nice but not the nice Token was used to. Nice as in a type of place that served its purpose and didn’t waste time or money on anything flashy or fancy. A type of place his parents would probably shy away from. 

 

“Majors?” Token asked over their steaming hot beef patties slotted in buns and french fries. 

 

Jimmy went on a spiel about the art of journalism. Another passion of his. He was in charge of the paper growing up in his hometown since elementary school. Something he had high hopes for continuing here at South Park. 

 

Craig was all into Astronomy and Engineering. Wanted to work for NASA at some point and design rockets. Possibly go to Space. The way he talked about it was fascinating within itself. It was like watching a little kid full of wonder break out of a cynical adult shell. Clyde seemed to find this more intriguing than Jimmy and Token combined. Like he finally found a human underneath all of the blunt sarcasm. He threw questions at Craig left and right about it leaning on the table to fully take in the rarity of an ardent Craig Tucker. When he grew tired of answering the endless inquiries he finished with a wisecrack about how “You can’t choose your passion. It picks you.” and a casual shrug.

 

Clyde was still debating physical therapy but decided to just take a few core classes to get him started. Whatever he ended up doing Token figured it would have to be hands-on and offer ample variety to keep him invested. The guy wouldn’t last a second in a typical nine to five. Hell, he didn’t know how he made it through his classes up to this point. 

 

Hours later, after the storm passed on campus they found themselves back in Token’s room with the door shut. Token had managed to secure a bottle of liquor. Money talks. Especially when you meet a group of juniors willing to do all of the dirty work to obtain it. The open door policy was no longer in effect. Mainly to keep nosy RAs from witnessing anything criminating. 

 

None of them were connoisseurs in the spirits department and the first shot went down horribly. It was at that precise moment that Token realized he forgot to ask the juniors for something to mix the deathly liquid with. Token could only assume his face mirrored the horrifyingly disgusted faces of his peers. He was pretty sure he was drinking Windex and he had no clue what that even remotely tasted like. They all choked it down, and tried to look as nonchalant as possible about the taste but failed miserably.

 

“That shit is poison.” Token spat, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

“Agreed,” Craig said, wrinkling his nose as he placed the plastic shot glass on the desk.

 

Token didn’t drink in high school. It was why he had no idea what to tell the upperclassmen what to buy him. Sure, he might have tasted a few things here and there at parties and with his parents. But, he was completely out of his element with pure unaltered liquor and decided to slow down. Craig seemed to be on his same wavelength. But Clyde and Jimmy were a different story. 

 

“Don’t be a p-p-pussy.” Jimmy challenged before throwing back another one with Clyde in tow.

 

Three shots later, Jimmy was spewing out bad joke after bad joke and then laughing hysterically at them sprawled about on his bed. Token had to give him some credit though. A few were kind of funny. 

 

As for Clyde, he had this incandescent smile on his face and was swaying on his feet. 

 

“You guys,” he purred coming up to Token and Craig who were leaning against Token’s bed. He slipped an arm around both of their shoulders. “You guysss!” 

 

Craig and Token exchanged a look. This was going to be a long night. 

 

“Hi Clyde,” Token said, his voice slow and cautious. He was nowhere near the same orbit as Clyde. He barely felt the slight buzz from the shot and a half he mustered down. “Feeling cuddly?”

 

Clyde said nothing on the topic, just had a frozen smile plastered on his face, swaying both Craig and Token with him. 

 

“Feeling very cuddly,” Craig said, wriggling out of Clyde’s grasp for the second time today; Clyde paid no attention, letting that arm fall to the side, keeping the other around Token.

 

“I love you guys,” Clyde slurred out. “You know what we should do?”

 

“Hm?” Token played along.

 

“Get married.” 

 

“So no one can steal you three away from me. We’re the four amig-wait no.” Clyde stopped looking quite stumped when he realized “amigos” didn’t fit with the number four. “Fuck.”

 

Clyde shook his head in mild agitation. Then turned with a suddenly very serious expression to Token. “We’re getting married. Me, you, Craig, and Jimmy. Right now.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

Clyde nodded vigorously and leaned in to whisper in Token’s ear. “And I know how to make it official.” His voice was hoarse and slurring on every other syllable. 

 

Before Token could continue to play along and ask “How?”, Clyde had smashed their lips together. It wasn’t anything too sophisticated or outlandish but shocking nonetheless. And a tad bit sloppy but that was to be expected with Clyde’s current state of mind.

 

“Okay, wow,” Token said. Over the course of last few days, he deduced that Clyde was a lot when sober. Yeah, he had his moments where he was chill and not over the top but Token thought that might be because the rest of the group gave off calming vibes. That they sort of acted as an anchor for him. But drunk lightweight Clyde, who could not even hold three shots of liquor, was like three Clydes in one body on one hell of a sugar rush. 

 

Clyde managed throughout their pregame session to get all of them to liplock with him to “seal the deal.” Jimmy had laughed into it and even gave Clyde some pointers he picked up on through his time at the OC. Craig was not so happy to oblige having sunk his teeth into Clyde’s bottom lip in retaliation. Hence, the reason why Clyde was wailing on his dorm room floor now. 

 

Craig was mildly irritated or at least that was what Token thought he looked. Craig had one hell of a poker face. He pushed himself out of the room and returned seconds later from across the hall straight to the ball of tears in the middle of Token and Jimmy’s floor.

 

Craig had a bottle of water in his hand. “Dial that shit down and drink this. Now.” It was a rough, unpracticed Alpha bark that sounded like a nasally yelp. Probably not an intentional one. It happened a lot to young Alphas. Token didn’t use his much. He never saw the need to use it. But he remembers the horrid instances of his high school years when he unintentionally did. That coupled with the embarrassing cracking his voice was subjected to as a hormonal teenager. It was an intrusive contender that every Alpha had to grapple with. 

 

“Aww, you guys he used his Alpha voice on me,” Clyde was babbling; he had an excited yet watery smile on his face now, like a puppy with a shiny new toy. “It’s official now. I’m getting your hot and adorable ass laid this semester.” 

 

“Gee, thanks.” Craig muttered before forcibly placing the bottle in Clyde’s mouth to effectively shut him up. 

 

Token sighed shaking his head from side to side. Correction: It was going to be a very long **semester**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates: So sorry for the long wait! I had to move and finish finals but everything's settled now and I should be updating on a more consistent basis. I have been asked about how long this will be and it will be fairly long. More than thirty chapters at least. Stan & Kyle are taking over next chapter :)


	12. The Omega Bomb

When Kyle gets to Stan’s dorm room, he glanced down at the text Stan sent earlier to double check that it was indeed room 501 in Stough Hall, he’s out of breath. He spent what felt like a whole half-hour trudging up a never-ending hill to get into the building. It was nice. Shiny floors, fresh paint, staged decor and so on. Kyle really didn’t have the energy to take it all in. That fucking hill. He did notice the lack of fancy security gizmos that Parker Hall had. He knocked on the door in front of him when he was 90% positive that the door in front of him was where Stan was staying.

 

He was met with a relaxed grin. “Hey, dude.”

 

His warm voice washed over Kyle, sending shivers up and down his body. Not even a few days had passed since Kyle seen him last and this was how much he’d evolved. Less than a minute and his body was already losing its shit. 

 

“Hey,” Kyle said lamely because the rest of his body was either still recuperating from the amount of energy it took to get there or dealing with seeing Stan, in the flesh, again.

 

“Wow, Kyle, aren’t you happy to see me,” Stan said, sarcasm clear in his voice.

 

“You yes. The mountain I had to climb to get here to see you? Not so much.”

 

Stan laughed. “It’s not that bad.”

 

“To who?” Kyle grumbled half-heartedly.

 

“Anyway, welcome to my humble abode,” Stan said, letting Kyle in. The lights in the halls and his suite were blinding. Something Kyle would not miss about school housing. Among other things. 

 

As insinuated multiple times throughout his brief interaction with college life, the athletes were treated like royalty and it showed. The place was spacious, and clearly a corner suite. There was a large living area, kitchen, and patio in the center. To the right, Kyle knew immediately was Stan’s room. From what he could see from the foyer, he had a big Denver Broncos flag hanging on one wall and an even bigger bed under it. 

 

On the left was Bridon’s room. The roommate Kyle hadn’t had the pleasure to meet with yet. All he knew about him was that he was a football player too and apparently had a killer singing voice.

 

Stan motioned for Kyle to follow him into his room. There were a few boxes stacked on the floor waiting to be unpacked, but the bed was made and the essentials were put into place. It was modest, the real gadgetry consisting of a laptop and a printer. Kyle expected nothing less from Stan. He never was the one to buy into the latest technology unless he felt pressured to do so. The living room must have been Bridon’s doing with the large flat screen perched on the wall and game systems plugged up below. 

 

Kyle twisted in the comfy desk chair with his laptop watching him unpack his stuff for what apparently was a second time in a month. All the football players had moved into new dorms for the fall and spring semester and Stan never got around to fully unpacking his things. 

 

“Did you hear about the Omega bomb?”

 

Is that what people were calling it? 

 

Kyle nodded. “Yeah, it's crazy.” He was in class when he heard the news that spread across campus like wildfire. Two blonde Omegas, now coined the “Sunshine Twins” had blasted the quad with their irresistible aroma that led to a mass brawl of Alphas. Kyle was glad he was nowhere near the mess when it happened. Thank God for World History 101. 

 

Kyle still couldn’t wrap his head around how someone could not know they were going into heat even if it was their first time. His mind had instantly went to his roommate Tweek when someone said they were blonde. But then he figured the guy would be hyper-aware of any changes to his physical state. Either way, it was the kind of attention Omegas did not need especially on the first day of classes. His caste, ugh. 

 

“Guess we both dodged that bullet then.” Stan grinned, dug deeper into one of the cardboard boxes and pulled out a few rolled up shirts. 

 

Stan tore off his shirt, lifted his arms up and yawned. Kyle tried his hardest not to run his eyes up and down his body. He failed. He secretly took inventory, admiring how his abdominal muscles flexed with the motion and he wanted nothing more than to rub his hand across his torso. The removal of the shirt only enhanced his usual mused up morning hair that somehow managed to give off the impression of casual effortless perfection. 

 

Kyle was no where near prepared to deal with what he was seeing. Stan had to know what he was doing but he was his usual aloof self. Like he always stripped down to his boxers for all his friends. Which he did. Football. Right. 

He sat there for a minute, staring, growing increasingly uncomfortable for reasons he couldn’t even begin to fathom. Some hidden, silent place in his heart spoke of some unknown need, and he felt an ache he didn’t want to acknowledge or even begin to understand.

 

He shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath and forced himself back into coherence. There was no beautiful sexy Alpha in front of him; this was just Stan. Ordinary, everyday Stan. The Stan who wore that ridiculous raggedy ann costume that one Halloween. The Stan he spent hours in the middle of the night playing Guitar Hero with as a kid. The Stan who could instantly shed tears over any matted fleabag with big dopey eyes that crossed his path. 

 

He pushed that crazy and dangerous-very dangerous- feeling down until it was replaced with determined apathy. 

 

Kyle swallowed. “Where were you?” 

 

“Practice,” Stan answered and Kyle nodded in understanding. The football stadium was on the opposite side of campus from the dining hall and the Omega clinic. 

 

While the students were all caught in the aftermath of what happened, the administration had been deathly quiet about the incident so far but Kyle had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last they heard about the matter.

 

“Where’s your roommate?” Stan asked.

 

“Locked in his room.” He had been in his closet to be exact with his sword in his hand yelling at him to find a place to hide because “they” were coming. Tweek apparently had witnessed the “Omega bomb” at ground zero but was far enough away so that he could high-tail it back to Parker hall without being caught in the madness. The damage was done though. 

 

Kyle had tried everything to get Tweek to come out with him tonight. Mainly so he wouldn’t be the only Omega in the mix of Betas and Alphas Stan hung around. But the mention of Alphas had immediately sent Tweek into a frenzy. There was no talking him down or reasoning with him at that point. So here he was: sans roommate. 

 

“I don’t think we’re going to see that many Omegas out tonight,” Kyle said with a shrug. He knew how most of his caste operated. Especially if they had families like his own. All of the kids at his high school sure did. Many families treated their Omega children like glass that would break if someone looked at them wrong. He wouldn’t be surprised if all of the Omegas in Parker hall were also balled up in their makeshift nests just like Tweek was. Probably not wielding a real-life sword, of course. But hiding from the big bad Alphas their parents warned them about when they had “The Talk”. 

 

“Hm, true.” Stan looked at his phone, then looked back up to the door.

 

"We should all head out to the parties soon," he said as if the two of us at all resembled an “all” because neither of them had been around anyone else in the last two hours.

 

“I heard the Gammas are having a party,” Kyle suggested, which Stan had to know too because he’d heard the same voices talking about it in the hallway too.

 

"I heard everyone has a party." 

 

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Oh, I forgot. I’m hanging out with a local celebrity.” 

 

“Shut up,” Stan said. “Did you drink in high school?” He asked suddenly. 

 

"Yeah, off and on," Kyle said, sounding blasé as he tried to dress up the parts of his life Stan wasn’t privy to. The only time he had drunk before had been a half flute of champagne at his aunt's wedding, and the two beers he’d managed to choke down at the one high school party he was pressured into going to his senior year. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to expose those humiliating secrets to Stan right now. Why ruin the reunion with his pathetic high school life? "Never got too crazy though. You?"

 

"Yeah, same," Stan replied quickly, even less convincingly than he had been. He gave him a sly grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes, Kyle tossed one back, and they both started giggling at how full of shit they both were. "I don’t know about you,” he continued, “but I think I'm ready to get wasted tonight.”

 

Kyle smiled back at him. “You and me both.” He didn’t know why he said that. He didn’t even know if he was going to be able to stomach a drink as he thought back to those disgusting beers. But he didn’t want to be a stick in the mud either. 

 

Stan bent down, picked up a final pair of plaid boxers, and threw them to the back of his underwear drawer. "My fucking mom," he huffed. “Packed everything I own.”

 

He then went back to rapping under his breath along with some hip-hop song they played at football practice all of the time; Kyle looked down at his computer, aimlessly clicking onto different sites in his browser.

 

“Marsh!” A voice called from the foyer and a door closing shut came right after. 

 

“In here,” Stan called back, still in a war with random articles of his clothes. It appeared that the clothes were winning. 

 

Kyle heard footsteps coming towards them and then Bridon, the long-awaited roommate, stood in the doorway. Kyle looked up at him from his seat at Stan’s desk and his eyes widened slightly. Bridon was- wow. 

 

He was a little taller than both Stan and Kyle. He had dark brown hair with some lighter highlights that Kyle couldn’t tell if they were the result of exposure to the summer sun or the work of a good professional. It was thoroughly styled around his chiseled face. Not muscular per se, but more toned than most of the eighteen-year-olds Kyle had seen. Somehow he must have fallen off the side of a modeling ad with his perfect teeth and charm. He broadcasted a certain swagger, a confidence, that comes with knowing you could probably cause the majority of panties in your vicinity to drop.

 

The only thing marring the flawless image of Bridon was the ugly purple color framing his left eye socket. 

 

“Ready to go?” Bridon asked with a thousand watt smile. “The drunk bus is coming in thirty.” 

 

Stan nodded. “Yeah, give me five minutes.” He quickly dashed to his closet dropping the things he was stuffing in drawers before onto the floor.

 

Kyle made a sound and Stan glanced over at him. “Oh yeah! Sorry. Bridon this is Kyle. Kyle, Bridon.” He gestured before sniffing a shirt and then pulling it over his head. 

 

“Nice to meet you, dude.” Kyle stook out his hand and Bridon gave it a quick shake. 

 

“Yeah, same. It’s great to put a face to the name. I swear you’re all this guy talks about.” Bridon smirked. 

 

“I do not!” Stan shot back, mildly embarrassed. There was a slight flush to his face as he ran his hands through his hair. Kyle pretended not to notice. 

 

If this was a normal situation where Kyle had Stan strictly in the friend box and no traitorous thoughts about said “friend” plagued him on a daily basis he would have laughed wholeheartedly and maybe even teased him further. But that was not true for this particular instance, so all he could manage was a very strained smile.

 

“I’m ready,” Stan said, looking vaguely sheepish and apologetic, walking up to them. His five-minute prep for a night out completely baffled Kyle. He could never pull that off. He’d come out of it looking like a hobo with his hair sticking out in all directions. And all Stan did was throw some clothes on and ran his fingers through his hair, as if combs only existed for the hell of it, and voila, he was ready, all perfec--

 

Kyle abruptly turned all his attention to the only other person in the room. 

 

“Um, how did you get that?” Kyle motioned to bruise hugging Bridon’s eye, hopping out of the desk chair.

 

“Omega bomb,” Bridon answered simply. “I was walking out of the dining hall and got randomly socked in the face.”

 

“That’s what happens when you skip practice,” Stan said cheerfully, his voice dripping in disdain. “The rest of us had to do extra drills for you and Frankoski.” 

 

“I was on the way. It's not my fault I was hangry after sitting in an hour lecture about the Law of supply and demand.” Bridon explained to Kyle with an eye roll. “No way I was moving tires on an empty stomach. Like Strongwoman said. Can’t expect to perform if you don’t refuel. And our refueling station was too far away.”

 

“Wait. Who was it?” Kyle interjected. 

 

“I have no fucking idea. Couldn’t smell anything except the...you know.” He waved his arm, coughed awkwardly, and didn’t quite make eye contact with Kyle. 

 

“Well, coach said 6 am runs for the next two weeks. So thanks for that.” Stan informed. 

 

“Happy to be of service,” Bridon said, closing and locking their door behind him. 

 

Stan slung an arm around Kyle’s shoulder, marching in the direction of the elevators. “Hey, Kyle are you free at six in the morning on Monday?” Stan asked.

 

“Not a fat chance in hell.”

 

“The benefits of being a reg.” Bridon sighed wistfully. “You get a say so in what your schedule looks like.”

 

Kyle arched an eyebrow. “Based off that room I just saw I’m pretty sure you guys are sitting pretty compared to the rest of us.”

 

“Hey watch it NARP, we work hard for our garbs.” Bridon joked. “And you got a brand spanking new building.”

 

Stan had already revealed some of the athlete slang to Kyle during their random bouts of text exchanges. NARP stood for Non-Athletic Regular Person. How creative. 

 

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Working out and throwing a ball around is not that difficult.”

 

Bridon groaned. “Please don’t tell you’re one of those pretentious artsy types that shit on sports at any waking opportunity.” It came off a little more bitter than intended. 

 

“No. I mean there are some serious problems with the national agencies.” Kyle started. 

 

“Kyle is the king of basketball.” Stan clarified sending him a half-grin in support.

 

“What? You ball?” Bridon did a double take and stepped back in disbelief. “Dude seriously?”

 

“Yeah occasionally,” Kyle shrugged. He didn’t get to play in high school. His mother thought it was far too dangerous. Even if it was just with other Omega kids. 

 

“I love basketball. Played it all through high school but got a scholarship for football here. What’s your fave position?” He asked brightly. 

 

“Point guard.”

 

“Same dude! I miss the running more than anything.” Bridon enthused. 

 

“Says the wide-receiver.” Stan cut in. 

 

“Not the same. I run for like twenty seconds each play.” Bridon clarified. “And you’re just mad because you’re absolute trash in basketball.”

 

Stan’s phone rang at the elevator doors.

 

“It’s Wendy,” Stan said to them both before answering it. “And fuck you Gueermo.”

 

Bridon laughed. “How convenient. I’m officially replacing you with Kyle by the way. You’ll have to move into Parker now he’s taking your room.” 

 

Stan shook his head turning away from them to focus on the phone conversation he was attempting to have.

 

He was on the phone for a while and Bridon had let the conversation drop and was now rapidly texting. Kyle pretended to be occupied with his own phone scrolling through emails and old text messages but the silence was palpable. It was to the point where Kyle could not let it hang in the air around him any longer. No matter how much he hated small talk. 

 

“So where are you from?” Kyle asked, trying to sound casual about it. They were walking outside now and Stan had fallen a few paces behind them. 

 

“Alabama,” Bridon said, looking up from his phone to glance at Kyle. “Small town.” He had absolutely no accent whatsoever, so Alabama caught Kyle off-guard, especially considering he looked nothing like someone who grew up in a small town in Alabama. “How about you?”

 

“San Fran,” Kyle told him. "Well, Walnut Creek, a suburb close to San Francisco, but my dad works in the city.”

 

“Oh, nice! I’ve visited L.A. once. Still, want to check out the Bay area though.”

 

“L.A. is madness.” 

 

Bridon laughed. “Yeah, it was a little overwhelming at first. But I had a blast. Sure beats the small intersection and a Walmart that I’ve known all my life. Definitely thinking of moving out there when I graduate.” 

 

They walked into a large group of people waiting on the side of the street. 

 

“Sorry.” Stan was finally off his phone and had jogged back up to them. “Wendy said for us to meet her at The Abbey later.” 

 

“Cool.” Bridon nodded, before leaving to greet someone he saw in the mass of bodies.

 

“This’ll be fun, yeah?” Stan bumped shoulders with Kyle and directed that adorable lopsided grin his way.

 

“I hope so.” Kyle really did. He wanted to fill in all those moments that were stripped from him. To make up for so much lost time. And Stan made it easy. He did. Kyle could feel the dim echoes of the old days calling him back into the roles they played as kids. But it wasn’t as simple. Things were different. Very different. He just wasn’t Kyle anymore. Stan wasn’t just Stan anymore. There were other factors at play now that changed their dynamic whether they wanted it to or not. It shouldn’t matter but it did. 

 

It didn’t mean Kye wouldn’t try to fight it though. If there was one thing he was good at doing, it was fighting. And he’d fight his caste, the bullshit that came with it, and the sick influence it had on his feelings until his knuckles were bruised and bloody to protect their friendship. 

 

A beat down school bus covered in various colors of paint pulled up to the curve. The engine sputtered and the doors squeaked opened to the awaiting crowd. Large plumes of smoke pushed out of the openings of the bus out into the night sky. 

 

The sharp bleating of a bullhorn cut through the smoky air. The noise startled Kyle and he jumped in reaction looking for the source of the blast. 

 

A voice boomed, “Alright everyone listen up! If you are looking for Econ 101 you are in the wrong fucking place, my friend!” 

 

The guy brought the bullhorn to his mouth once again, and the yelling and movement escalated to a feverish pace as people pushed forward to gain entry. “One more thing maggots! There is an admission fee!”

 

A sloshing bucket of red liquid came into view. “Drink up or go home freshies!” Large bendy and swirling plastic straws stuck out of the concoction at different angles. 

 

Bridon secured one easily and slurped up and then passed it to Stan. Stan followed suit.

 

Kyle made a face at how hygienic this all was but didn’t decline when Stan handed him the straw next. A sweet liquid with a sharp aftertaste hit the back of his throat before it was roughly pulled out of his mouth.

 

The guy with the blow horn was looking down at him with a menacing smirk. “If you need something to suck on baby, all you had to do was ask.” 

 

Kyle stiffened at the guy’s words and fire rushed to his face as he gritted his teeth. The guy was standing there daring for Kyle to challenge him with a wicked gleam in his dark brown eyes. 

 

“Chillax. Just messing with ya.” His eyes moved up to his hair. “I don’t fuck day-walkers anyway.” Kyle didn’t know what that meant but given the asshole’s mocking tone and evil grin, it had to be dripping with full-blown offense. It only made Kyle want to snarl and lash out more. The guy stunk of Alpha and even though he had a good several pounds on him as well as a few inches, Kyle was confident he could take him in a fight. 

 

Instead, his hands tightened into fists and he raised an eyebrow. “Get out of the way asshole.” 

 

The guy relented but that sneer remained in place and Kyle could feel his eyes on him as he hurried after Stan’s back, which was disappearing in the smoky confines of the bus. 

 

Once he could see past the billows of smoke, his eyes widened at how nice the inside was.  
“Wow,” Kyle said softly, his green eyes taking in everything. He looked around in awe, his mouth slightly agape at the fluffy couches, sparkling metal poles, and the bright neon lights that touched every surface. 

 

He ended up sandwiched between Stan and Bridon. And the whole ride he did his damn best to ignore how good Stan’s thigh felt against his own. The bus eventually came to a squeaking halt in front of a bar. The Abbey at South Park was plastered on the wall in red cursive lettering. 

 

Kyle didn’t know much about bars but he was pretty sure what he walked into would not qualify if someone described it to him beforehand. They walked into the establishment which was almost pitch black and overloaded with people, smashing shoulders together whenever they tried to move. And, in almost an instant, they had unwillingly joined this amorphous blob, gyrating to music, framed by the laser lights streaking across the walls and ceiling.

 

It was unexpected. It was kind of exciting, or it would’ve been if Kyle hadn’t felt so very much out of his element.

 

A new song started, louder than the last one.

 

Wendy came up to them with Bebe in tow and hands filled with cups filled to the rim. One was handed to him. It was served in a tall and skinny plastic cup and it looked like a slushy. Regardless, Kyle braced himself for a first, tentative sip but all it tasted like was a slightly-bitter citrusy juice. He knew, from the banners he saw before they entered blazing “Strongest Drink in the County!” that it was not to be tangled with, but he definitely could feel himself sucking it down.

 

"We're going to get fucked up," Birdon announced, raising his own cup up to cheers everyone.

 

"Hell yes," Stan replied and Bebe whooped in agreement.

 

Kyle was two drinks in when the room was starting to spin a little, so he went out on the patio for some fresh air. Wendy offered to go with him. She was still on her first, which had the majority left in it still, so he figured it was more of a goodwill gesture on her part than a genuine need for fresh air.

 

"Having fun?" Kyle asked. She nodded with a small smile. Kyle flicked her cup. "Doesn't look like it."

 

"I'm not a big drinker," she replied. She took a quick sip, then rolled her eyes. "Plus, someone's going to have to cart Bebe home whenever she’s moaning about how she’s never going to drink again. And I have important things to do tomorrow.”

 

Kyle didn’t want to think about tomorrow. He didn’t have class until 11 but who knew what god awful time he’d be back in his bed. He also did not know how to approach the offhand comment about Bebe since he didn’t know Wendy or Bebe like that, so he just managed a sputtered: “Is she that bad?”

 

"Oh, no," Wendy said, swatting the air. “I don’t mean to imply.” She paused, restarted. “No, she's really great. She's just annoying as hell when she's wasted. But who isn't?"

 

And as if to prove her point, Stan bustled through the patio doors. 

 

"Hey!" He screeched, holding out his vowel. "Another round?"

 

Wendy looked at him in disapproval and looked ready to comment but decided to refrain and took another sip of her drink instead.

 

"We're fine," Kyle said. He looked down at his drink, which was mostly just ice at this point. "Oh, well, if you're getting one more."

 

"Ahhh!" Stan grinned, and he tore off towards the bar. Kyle didn’t ask how Stan was going to get the drinks or even how Wendy was able to get any. He suspected fake IDs were at play or they had already scoped out the really friendly bartenders over the summer.

 

The next stop was clearly much more laid back--no gyrating, no lasers, no dance club feel. The room was really just like a big living room, with lots of beat up couches, well-lit and inviting. Everyone in their own circles or semi-circles enjoying solo cups filled with blood red alcohol.

 

“This is so much better,” Stan said. “I fucking hate crowds.”

 

“I mean, I'm not anti-social or anything,” he continued. He gave a pained pause, to swallow a burp. “Just, like, I need to be drunk when there’s that many people."

 

“Plenty of time for that!” Bridon said and then easily fell into another conversation with two other people right after, like a true socialite, about their Econ professor and the law of supply and demand leaving Stan and Kyle clueless about the conversation topic. Kyle sure didn’t have any brain cells he was willing to give to try and make sense of it. 

 

Kyle and Stan made eye contact and casually drifted over to the makeshift bar. The bar was right next to the front door, in front of the stairs. Bar being a generous term. It was a folding table with a keg and a garbage can of booze on either side. 

 

Kyle picked up a cup and put it to his lips, trickled the tiniest bit back into his mouth. It was nothing like the slushy mix at the Abbey. It tasted like Satan. Like acid or the cleaning chemicals, his mother used every Saturday to clean their home from top to bottom, and Kyle thought he was going to throw it back up. He should’ve thrown it back up, but he ignored his instincts because he knew if he was the guy who, on his first day of freshman year, threw up his first sip of alcohol, he’d never live it down for four years.

 

So Kyle forced it down. And it felt like fire racing down his esophagus. He took a few deep, hot breaths, quietly to himself, and the moment passed. And at that moment, he decided it would be his last drink for the night. 

 

A group of Alphas and Betas were close by congregating around another table. While Stan was ordering whatever at the bar, Kyle felt eyes on him.

 

“Aye! Look it's the daywalker I was telling you about earlier.” A voice called out. “Hey! Truth or dare?” 

 

Kyle narrowed his eyes on the laughing ones looking back at him, and he couldn’t help the annoyance bubbling up inside of him. Out of all the places to fucking be.

 

The whole group had turned towards the commotion. They were looking at him. It was uncomfortable. Just like earlier today in his classes and when he was outside on his way to said classes but way more intense this time around. It was like they pieced together why he did not belong. As if they finally understood why they were staring at him in the first place. 

 

A hailstorm of comments rained down on him then. And he did a pretty decent job ignoring them.

 

“Cartman you were right. That mouth was born to be wrapped around Alpha cock.” 

 

“Are you going into heat soon by chance?”

 

“Are you friends with the blondes that went into heat earlier?” 

 

“When you’ve had enough of sniffing jockstraps, come find me. I’ll show you how real Alphas throw down.” But that last one cracked his forcefield.

 

His attention snapped back to “Cartman”. Kyle felt his face turn a deep red, and replied, “Fuck you.”

 

“Well, that’s the whole point. You never answered: truth or dare?”

 

Kyle remained stubbornly silent. He didn’t have to play into this.

 

Cartman shrugged. “Dare it is then.” 

 

“Mm, let’s see.” He tapped his fingers on his chin in thought. “Suck my fingers for a minute.”

 

“What?” So much for his plan.

 

“You chicken?” Cartman asked, his grin only growing as Kyle glared at him and the offending digits he was holding up in offering. What an asshole.

 

“I think you’re stalling day-walker. It’s just fingers. It's not like I’m asking you to suck my dick.” 

 

Stan was back, with a new drink in his hand. “Hey, Kyle. They’re playing Taboo over there and I need a partner.”

 

“Back off Stan. We’re playing truth or dare and I had just dared your boy to suck my fingers with his pretty little Omega lips.”

 

Kyle aimed his glare back in Cartman’s direction. “What the fuck is your problem? Do you think you’re funny?” 

 

Kyle felt his ears ringing as Cartman licked his lips and argued right back. “No, I just think it’s a fantastic idea, Kahl. Are you scared?” Cartman inquired, showing his teeth. The fucker didn’t even know how to pronounce his name. 

 

“No, you’re delusional and right now you need to get the fuck out of my face.”

 

“Or?”

 

Kyle felt the blood and adrenaline pumping through his veins and a very pissed-off expression crossing his face. “Or it might just meet with my fist.”

 

“Knock it off, dude.” Stan directed at Cartman. 

 

“I’m afraid you’re talking to the wrong person Stan. I believe the Omega bitch you brought is over there.” 

 

“That’s fucking it.” Kyle launched at the fat asshole with a ragged snarl. 

 

Arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him back, stopping his fist just shy of the sniggering face he wanted to mangle.

 

For a brief second, Cartman’s eyes registered fear but quickly morphed into amusement when he knew he was safe. “You’re pretty pissed off, Kahl. What’s wrong? Afraid you might like it? How do you know unless you try?” 

 

“AHH!” Kyle tried to lunge forward again to no avail. “Stan let me go now!” He hated how he couldn’t easily push him away like he was able to when they were kids. Fuck him and his football workouts. 

 

A pause.

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Stan concluded.

 

“Now don’t get all pissy with me, freshman,” Cartman said. “I was just trying to do you a favor. Don’t want another bomb to go off, do we?”

 

“Hey, ignore it.” Kyle paid no attention to the words whispered in his ear. He was seething and had daggers locked on his target. 

 

That was when Bridon jumped in and out of whatever conversation Stan and Kyle had left him in. “Hey, Cartman! How are you doing bro? I wanted to ask your opinion about a few business ventures of mine…” And with that, he steered Cartman away with the same ease for diffusing a situation as his roommate. 

 

“Unfuckingbelievable,” Kyle muttered.

 

Stan moved Kyle around until it was just him in Kyle’s line of sight.

 

“Ignore it,” Stan repeated with a little more urgency. 

 

“Fine,” Kyle conceded, slumping in Stan’s hold and crossing his arms over his chest. 

 

“Are you-”

 

“Don’t ask me if I’m okay.” Kyle bit out. 

 

“Right…” Stan had the good sense to look uncomfortable as he released him. 

 

Lifting a hand, Kyle ran it over his face and up through his, by now, frizzy hair only to have his fingers get caught in the mess of it all. It only frustrated him more. 

 

“Taboo. Let’s go play.” He attempted to smile but he knew it did nothing to belie his anger. He tried to ignore the fact that he was shaking as he brushed both of his palms down the front of his thighs.

 

They walked over to a small gathering of people shouting random words and phrases at a person standing in the middle of the room. 

 

“New game! Marsh, you’re in now. We’re doing first team to ten.” An upperclassman that strangely reminded Kyle of a Siamese cat called out.

 

“Every time you can’t get your teammate to guess you have to take a shot. Vodka is the flavor for this round.”

 

“Let’s put the freshies up against each other. Two players per team.” One of his buddies suggested. 

 

And that’s how they ended up going up against a group of first years just like them. Their team did not go first and Kyle was incredibly thankful for that. He could still feel the anger boiling in his gut and he needed the time to cool down. Time to get his head on straight and stop thinking about going on a righteous warpath throughout the school. 

 

The first group nominated a brunette from their group. Kyle had a feeling the guy was drunk. His movements were sluggish and he kept laughing at stupid shit.

 

“Everything I want to say is on here.” The brunette, Clyde, said. Yep, he’s drunk.

 

“An animal not on land.” He started, brows furrowed in concentration. 

 

“Bird.” His friend tried to guess.

 

“Close. Um, it's in the water.”

 

“Fish. Shark. Octopus.”

 

“No, no and no. It has a wait-” Clyde held up his hands before dropping to the floor. He started to wither on the floor with his held up over his back. 

 

“The fuck Clyde?” 

 

“Wrong game dude.” Another person in his entourage snickered out.

 

One spector was bent over cracking up. “I’m gonna piss myself.” 

 

“Times up,” Kyle announced, holding up the timer as proof. 

 

“Already?” Clyde lamented and then turned to his group.

 

“It’s really hard when you can’t say the words you want.” He explained, taking his losing shot with no trouble at all. 

 

“That pretty much sums up the game I think.” A tall Alpha, with the same jet black hair as Stan but shinier and worthy of a poster ad about healthy hair, said dryly. Kyle couldn’t decide if the guy was bored or if he suffered from resting bitch face. Maybe both.

 

When it was their turn, Kyle focused on two things: watching Stan’s eyes and his mouth. It wasn’t a hard task since he spent most of his time when around him trying not to do that. His body responded instinctively to subtle signals Stan was sending everytime he picked up a card. 

 

“Orthodontist.”

 

Point.

 

“Dream.”

 

Point.

 

“Street.”

 

Point.

 

“Ham?”

 

The buzzer went off indicating it was in fact not right. Kyle’s stomach dropped and twisted in displeasure. They were both on a roll with their answers too.

 

Their next round Stan would have to do the guessing. He was a little worried as Stan downed the shot of vodka because his face was getting flushed, his grin getting progressively lopsided, his movements jerkier and less accurate as the night went on. But they were both getting more comfortable and more relaxed, as the room slipped into a haze. Kyle was having a nice time now. Laughing and joking at the antics of the other group and at each other.

 

When it was their turn again Kyle had much more confidence about winning. As their eyes connected, it felt as though he'd put him in a radar lock. In that moment their bodies and minds began communicating at a level almost naked in its intimacy. Kyle became an extension of Stan; there was never any question of failing.

 

The answers didn’t flow out of Stan’s mouth as easily as Kyle’s did but it didn’t mean they were wrong. They got to ten points in no time without any sign of a buzzer in their wake. 

 

An uproar of applause and groans sounded throughout the crowd watching the game. 

 

“I call foul!” Clyde protested, crossing his arms. “Are you sure he’s not bonded to you?”

 

“What?” Kyle asked, but his indignant response was lost in the plethora of voices speaking all at once. That thought sobered him completely. The weight of his caste hit him like a brick. He turned every which way and realized he was the only Omega there. He didn’t have anyone else like him at this party. How the hell was he supposed to answer that in front a group of Alphas and Betas? 

 

“I’m standing right next to him, Clyde. There’s no mark.” The guy next to Kyle, who he found out went by Token, informed the rest of the group.

 

Kyle glanced at him and he quickly said, “Uh...sorry.” before shuffling off to the rest of his friends. 

 

The guy hosting the game, whose name evaded Kyle, patted him on the back. “Well done, kid. I would have wiped the floor with your ass but I’m wasted.” 

 

And then, “New rule guys: no best friends on a team.” The upperclassman declared, a wide grin on his face as he chugged a quarter of his beer. 

 

Stan was playfully shoving a few of his teammates away from him when Kyle’s eyes made their way back to him. The noise of the crowd, the loud rock music playing from some speaker, all faded away. 

 

“Kyle!” Stan gripped Kyle’s shoulder and squeezed hard.

 

“Good game, dude,” They hugged and high-fived. Stan backed off and looked at Kyle for just a second, eyes radiating glee.

 

Kyle returned the look. Then they both broke out laughing like crazy men.

 

Stan looked at him again, eyes furrowed in deep wonder. “Did that seem kind of weird to you just now?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Dude. I don’t know. There was something...that clicked with us back there...like we were operating as one person…” Stan fell back onto a couch away from the commotion and Kyle followed suit.

 

“Well, we are super best friends,” Kyle tried to keep it light. Jokey. He did not want to go down this road. Not now. Not ever. Especially with a drunk borderline philosophical Stan Marsh. 

 

“I know,” Stan said, “But it felt…” He paused and looked towards the small group of people still playing, then continued. “I don’t know, man. It’s like there this thing between us. A thing that's...just us...no...or… shit, that’s just stupid. I don’t know what I mean. Do you ever…”

 

“I don’t know.” Kyle hedged and fell silent. He did know. But the voices he clamped down into the darkest crevices of his mind were whispering impossible and incomprehensible things to him again. 

 

In all aspects of the word, Kyle was mortified. Logically speaking, there was nothing but chance and maybe a little bit of skill involved in the stupid drunk game of Taboo. He was not reading into it. But Stan was.

 

And a stupid game of Taboo should not leave him feeling this exposed. But through the fuzz of his alcohol-influenced brain, he comprehended that this was not just something that he was experiencing in the confines of his mind anymore. 

 

Stan, drunk Stan at that, had felt this “something” too. To the point where he not only voiced his acknowledgment of it but wanted to have a discussion about it with him. Kyle felt naked, especially with the way Stan had his eyes trained on him, watching closely with a frown in place, and he hated every fucking minute of it. 

 

He turned away from Stan, glancing about the room. Stan was too close. They were both crammed on a couch too far away from the rest of the drunken shenanigans going on around them. There wasn’t that much room for Kyle to put distance between them.

 

Kyle’s lungs were closing, he could’ve sworn. He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want to think about “something” right now. He didn’t know how to think about it. And there was no way in hell that he was going to talk to Stan about it. 

 

“I need another drink.” He announced, swiftly getting to his feet and heading to the bar, not once looking back to take in the confused marvelling expression of his best friend.

 

Kyle did his best to avoid Stan for the rest of the night. He talked to Wendy and awkwardly tried to evade a wasted and handsy Bebe who kept asking him to dance. What she was doing on the floor right now with her current victim was not dancing. It was full-on sex with clothes on and Kyle wanted no part of it. 

 

He even got talked into a bar pong game with Bridon. When he saw Stan again he was gone. He was trashed out of his skull. He had boarded a rocket ship fueled by liquor and left Earth’s orbit.

 

“Kyle! There you are!” Stan announced, tottering a bit. “Shit. This room’s gone all--” He paused, considered his word choice. “Funny.”

 

Wendy looked at him and then Bebe who had mid-way through conversation fell asleep with her chin on her chest before letting out a huge sigh. “ Well guys its been fun but I’m taking Bebe back now before she decides to make this disgusting couch her bed. I advise you do the same with him,” She motioned to Stan with her chin. 

 

“We’re going to have to take him home at some point,” Kyle said to Bridon watching Wendy practically carry Bebe out the door.

 

“He’s fine,” Bridon interrupted, swatting away his concern. “Please. Unless you have to get him an EMS call, he has to learn to rally.”

 

Kyle didn’t look convinced and Bridon squeezed his shoulder. “Relax Kyle. It’s a party! That’s what you’re supposed to do. Don’t let Wendy’s overprotectiveness rub off on you. This isn’t Stan’s first rodeo.”

 

And so they sat, talked, mingled, and goofed off until the wee hours of the night. Kyle had met many faces and forgot many names. Which he didn’t think was intentional. Besides, he felt a little lightheaded. And Stan was somehow worse: eyes narrow, staring straight ahead, swatting away water whenever it was offered to him. And then he abruptly stood up, cupped his hand over his mouth, and ran into the nearest bathroom. Before the door slammed shut behind him, they could already hear the sound of him vomiting into what they hoped was the toilet.

 

And with that, an upperclassman started giggling, an unexpectedly high-pitched laugh, smoke coming out of his mouth and nostrils like a giddy dragon. He threw both hands up in the air, victorious. “First freshman to puke! Who had the hippie over there?”

 

“Watch your drink,” Another upperclassman hissed.

 

Bridon then looked at Kyle, gave him this sympathetic grin. “Now might be that time to take him back.”

 

"I'm on it," Kyle sighed. "You guys can stay."

 

The rest of his teammates including Bridon looked at each other, uncomfortably, and then there was that awkward moment where Kyle realized they had no intention of taking Stan back with him. But Kyle guessed he was the best friend--Stan’s staying alive was on him now, not them. Kyle was done drinking anyway, though. Done with the whole outing, honestly. He was out of his element and a headache was on the horizon. He wasn’t as far gone as Stan but he could be if he stayed any longer.

 

"Okay, thanks," Bridon said sheepishly, without even attempted sincerity. Wow. Kyle wondered how many parities Stan went to over the summer and how he managed to get back home before. 

 

Kyle went into the bathroom. Stan was lying on the floor, a fetal ball in the middle of the dirty tile. He grabbed his shirt collar and Stan gave a weak moaning protest as Kyle pulled him upright.

 

“Get the fuck up Stan.” Kyle huffed as his shoulder hit the wall with the effort he put in to manually upright him. He was in no mood to fall in the mess Stan left all on the bathroom floor.

 

Stan groaned again. “Where are we?”

 

“On our way home.” Kyle hated how that sounded and swiftly corrected, “I mean back to your dorm.”

 

“We just got here.” And he didn’t sound as petulant as he did confused. 

 

Kyle snorted. “Yeah like three hours ago. Now move your ass.” 

 

"Fine," Stan exhaled, finally, and they left the house.

 

“Where’s Bridon?” Stan squinted around rubbing his head and just now noticing that they were alone after walking two blocks. No party bus to bring them back to campus. Nope. They were to figure out how to trek back to campus themselves with half a brain. Kyle’s body, mind, and soul protested the very idea of having to climb that hill again to Stan’s residence hall. The only positive: he’d have killer calf muscles by the end of the semester. 

 

“The last time I saw him he was talking to that guy again. Cartman.” He saw them on the way out of the house party while he was pushing Stan to the exit. Easier said than done. Kyle’s eyes darkened at the thought of Cartman. The fat bastard pushed and tested him all night long. 

 

“Are you friends with him?” He asked in a tense voice.

 

Stan paused and grabbed the nearest object, a street lamp, to balance himself. “Who? Cartman? I barely know him. Heard he’s a jackass.”

 

“That’s a word for him.” 

 

“You know he’s not wrong though,” Stan slurred on. “You do have a nice mouth.”

 

Kyle looked up incredulously and there Stan was. Staring at his mouth. His best friend since forever ago was just standing there, staring at his mouth and probably not thinking about sunflowers and fucking daisies. It was official. Kyle hated Eric Cartman. The list kept getting longer and he had not even been in South Park for a week. 

 

And he was going to have to call bullshit on both of them. There was nothing remarkable about his lips. He looked in the mirror every day. They weren’t some magical feature that was deserving of any praise. Because if he was an Alpha or even a Beta he bet this wouldn’t even be a discussion. 

 

“I’ve never-I don’t suck dick, Stan.” He finally got out. “And stop staring at me like that!” 

 

Stan grabbed Kyle’s arm, holding it tight until he stopped walking.“I’m sorry- it’s just shit...maybe you should?” It comes out like a question. 

 

Kyle is so stunned he’s not even sure what to fucking say to any of it. Stan-no drunk Stan was out of his fucking mind. “I will kill you if you ever say something like that to me again.” Kyle forced out, his throat tight and unbearably dry. Why did he have to look at him like that? And why was Stan’s dorm room so far away?

 

“Ky-”

 

“Stop talking,” Kyle gritted out, picking up his pace. He didn’t have to entertain this. Stan was drunk. Intoxicated and nowhere near his right mind. 

 

Stan stumbled forward in an attempt to keep up with Kyle, his eyes bright, cheeks flushed as he reached for him a second time. 

 

He tripped on air and gracelessly fell against Kyle’s front “I love you, Kyle.” He said when he grabbed onto Kyle’s shoulders to right himself. He didn’t let go though. He pulled Kyle into a very inebriated version of a hug. 

 

“I love how you smell too.” He mumbled, his breath hot against Kyle’s cheek, his nose brushing against his. Stan was once again dangerously close. His brain short-circuited. And--oh. He’s hard. There was no denying the jean-clad erection currently greeting his thigh. Holy fuck. 

 

Kyle scrambled back as if someone had just poured scalding hot water all over him. Too many things were happening at once. His mind was at war with itself. One side firing a hundred reasons a second as to why Stan would be hard that did not involve him, Kyle Broflovski, in the equation. The other half was dancing in pure euphoric glory while chanting “mate” over and over again. He needed this night to end right fucking now. 

 

With the sound of his heart in his ears and a burst of heat rushing to his face, Kyle forced himself to meet his eyes, unable to stop himself from glaring at him. “I said stop talking.”

 

Kyle wanted to run. Get away from the dazed and slurring temptation in front of him. But he couldn’t leave Stan like this. He had to make sure he stayed in one piece so he wouldn’t fall over and hit his head or something. 

 

He watched Stan stumble a few times before sighing, “Come on, dude.”

 

Stan leaned on him again, his left arm wrapped around Kyle’s shoulders, his body brushing against Kyle’s at every step. “Bridon can’t take you from me. You’re mine. My best friend.”

 

With each breath Kyle took in, he had to remind himself why it was a bad idea to push Stan against the nearest wall and kiss him sober. He’d knew he’d regret it, but the way his body felt against his own and the way Stan kept mumbling stupid sweet innocent things at him was so insanely hot. Kyle had to bite down hard on his inner cheek to keep himself from doing anything stupid. 

 

Somehow he managed to drag Stan back to his room and swiftly dig out the keys to his room without any further embarrassment to add on top of the night. He dumped Stan on his bed and Stan turned to slap the spot next to him a couple of times. Kyle ignored the invitation. Like hell, he was climbing into bed with him.

 

Stan tried again but his hand soon flapped like a dying fish and he was out within seconds snoring softly, completely lost to the conscious world. Thank fuck. 

 

Kyle tried hard to fall asleep, doubting he’d succeed. He kept his eyelids neatly tucked over his eyeball and made an effort to keep everything from his mind. But all he could do was replay the entire night since he boarded the drunk bus.

 

Stan’s words echoed in Kyle’s head and his heart twisted painfully. This wasn’t supposed to happen tonight. He had buried those thoughts deep into a far corner of his mind. Thoughts that were clearly just biologically driven. Because he was an Omega and Stan was an Alpha. That’s all that they boiled down too. And he wanted to forget that they existed. To just be around his fucking friend without any of the fucked up caste shit. Like when they were kids with no real concrete understanding of how this crazy world operated. 

 

Tonight, he was just supposed to be going out to party with his best friend. No complications. No worries. No off the wall realizations about personal relationships. No lingering hopes that any of the sick shit he may or may not have fantasized about could actually come to fruition. 

 

Kyle choked, mentally on the end of that thought and the fear that feeling from earlier, when he saw Stan only in boxers, would once again rise to torture him. It started to rain outside, drops pelting the windows softly. Mother Nature seemed to understand his inner turmoil. He shifted uncomfortably in the desk chair, curling up and putting his knees into his chest. His eyelids began to droop and exhaustion won out before he had a chance to continue his brooding session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Life currently has me by the balls and laughed in my face about regularly updating this story. A CPS case about a real-life Tweek will do that for you. Anywho, I apologize for the late update. Next chapter is a Creek invasion! Yay! Come drown in Creek with me! :)


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